SCRIBNER'S  SERIES  OF  SCHOOL 
READING. 


In  Uniform  Rinding ;  each  12010,  net,  60  Cents. 


LOBO,  RAG  AND  VIXEN.  From  u  Wild  Animals  I  Have 
Known."  By  Ernest  Seton-Thompson.  Illustrated. 

THE  HOWELLS  STORY  BOOK.  Edited  by  Mary  E.  Burt 
and  Mildred  Howells.  Illustrated. 

THE  CABLE  STORY  BOOK.  Selections  for  School  Reading, 
with  the  Story  of  the  Author's  Life.  Edited  by  Mary 
E.  Burt  and  Lucy  Leffingwell  Cable.  Illustrated. 

THE  EUGENE  FIELD  BOOK.  Verses,  Stories,  and  Letters  for 
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Cable  Introduction  by  George  W.  Cable.  Illustrated. 

FANCIFUL  TALES.  By  Frank  R.  Stockton.  Edited  by 
Julia  E.  Langworthy.  Introduction  by  Mary  E.  Burt. 

THE  HOOSIER  SCHOOL-BOY.  By  Edward  Eggleston.  Illus 
trated. 

CHILDREN'S  STORIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE,  1660- 
1860.  By  Henrietta  C.  Wright. 

CHILDREN'S  STORIES  IN  AMERICAN  LITERATURE,  1860— 
1896.  By  Henrietta  C.  Wright. 

ODYSSEUS,  THE  HERO  OF  ITHACA.  By  Mary  E.  Burt.  A 
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of  Athens  and  Berlin*.  Fully  Illustrated. 

POEMS    OF    AMERICAN    PATRIOTISM.      Chosen   by  Brander 

Matthews.      285  pages. 

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HERAKLES,  THE  HERO  OF  THEBES.  By  Mary  E.  Burt. 
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GENERAL    CUSTER    IN    HIS    STUDY. 


THE  BOY  GENERAL 

STORY  OF  THE   LIFE  OF 

MAJOR-GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER 


AS  TOLD   BY 

ELIZABETH   B.   CUSTER 

IN  "TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS,"  "FOLLOWING  THE  GUIDON, 
AND  "BOOTS  AND  SADDLES" 


EDITED    BY 

MARY   E.   BURT 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1901 


'RESERVATION 
;OPY  ADDED 


COPYRIGHT,  1901,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


Co 
SEVEN    YOUNG    SOLDIERS 

WHO   STRUGGLE   WITH   SAVAGE  LESSONS 

AND   FIGHT  BRAVELY 
THE   BATTLES   OF   COMMON    EVERY-DAY   LIFE 

WARREN  KENNETH 

GARDNER  TOMMY 

PETER   COOPER 
CHARLES   AND   MERLE 


M759461 


PREFACE 

"  THE  BOY  GENERAL  "  is  a  condensed  sur 
vey  of  the  life  of  Major-General  George  Arm 
strong  Custer,  as  told  by  his  wife,  Elizabeth 
B.  Custer,  in  her  matchless  books,  "Tenting 
on  the  Plains,"  "  Following  the  Guidon,"  and 
"  Boots  and  Saddles."  It  summarizes  General 
Custer's  public  services,  from  the  reorganiza 
tion  of  Texas  after  the  Civil  War  and  the  sup 
pression  of  the  intended  Mexican  Invasion,  to 
the  pioneer  work  of  himself  and  his  brave  sol 
diers  in  opening  up  the  Northwest. 

Sympathize  as  we  may  with  the  unfortunate 
Indian,  we  can  but  acknowledge  that  there  is 
no  longer  any  room  on  earth  for  uncivilized 
conditions  to  exist.  Humanity  is  in  the  proc 
ess  of  evolution  toward  a  brotherhood  that 
must  be  universal.  "  The  Earth  is  the  Lord's." 
It  is  not  the  Indian's.  It  is  not  the  White 
Man's.  It  must  open  up  for  the  good  of  all 
men,  each  individual  to  use  it  for  his  highest 
development. 


vi  Preface 

In  her  descriptions  of  the  joys  and  sorrows, 
the  glory  and  the  grief,  the  courage  and  the 
sacrifices  of  the  daring  troopers  of  the  Plains, 
Mrs.  Custer  has  well  served  the  purposes  of 
graver  history,  for  her  facts  are  indisputable 
and  at  first  hand.  She  furnishes  the  original 
colors  with  which  the  future  artist  may  paint, 
the  action  which  the  poet  and  novelist  weave 
into  song  and  romance.  Her  pages  are  crowd 
ed  with  pictures  of  a  type  of  life  almost  extinct. 
Washington  Irving  in  his  Indian  stories  drew 
on  records  of  a  dead  past.  Mrs.  Custer  has 
drawn  on  living  records  of  an  intense  present. 

As  good  literature,  "  The  Boy  General "  is  a 
valuable  accessory  in  teaching.  It  is  an  inval 
uable  accessory  as  well  in  teaching  history 
and  geography.  But  to  the  really  professional 
teacher  knowledge  is  nothing  as  compared 
with  character.  The  greatest  value  of  the 
book  lies  in  the  fact  that  its  pages  teem  with 
examples  of  fortitude,  self-sacrifice,  temper 
ance,  self-control,  tenderness,  kindliness  in 
dealing  with  difficult  dispositions,  a  patriotism 
that  cannot  be  bribed,  resistance  of  tempta 
tions  to  dishonorable  wealth,  devotion  to  one's 
country  in  spite  of  pestilence,  cold,  fatigue, 
and  starvation.  These  are  lessons  in  manliness 
and  they  mean  more  than  dates  and  statistics. 


Preface  vii 

The  chapters  from  "  Boots  and  Saddles,"  re 
calling  the  most  dangerous  adventures  of  Gen 
eral  Custer's  life,  have  been  repeatedly  used  in 
Western  schools,  and  it  was  the  enthusiasm  of 
Western  school-children  that  first  gave  the  im 
pulse  to  editing  this  book.  Since  then  I  have 
read  the  book  critically  with  a  class  of  New 
York  children,  and  to  their  comments  I  owe 
the  clew  to  my  choice  of  text.  It  is  with  re 
gret  that  many  thrilling  scenes  have  been 
omitted.  In  no  case  has  the  meaning  been  al 
tered,  and  the  text  has  been  cut  down  to  the 
necessary  proportions  only  as  the  author  has 
approved.  The  closing  chapter  is  edited  from 
reliable  sources,  chiefly  from  the  writings  of 
Lieutenant-General  Nelson  A.  Miles,  and  an 
article  in  the  Century  Magazine  of  January, 
1892,  written  by  Captain  Edward  S.  Godfrey, 
of  the  Seventh  U.  S.  Cavalry,  who  was  in  the 
battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn.  Information 
was  also  gathered  from  the  letters  and  com 
ments  of  Generals  Sherman  and  Sheridan,  Mc- 
Clellan  and  Fry,  and  Colonel  Smith,  of  Briga 
dier-General  Alfred  H.  Terry's  staff.  Many 
thanks  are  due  to  Mrs.  Annie  Gibson  Yates, 
widow  of  Captain  George  W.  Yates  (the  hero 
who  planned  the  capture  of  Rain-in-the-face), 
for  collecting  these  data,  and  to  General  Miles 


viii  Preface 

for  revising  them.  This  is  a  chapter  long-  de 
sired  by  all  the  young  readers  who  are  inter 
ested  in  getting  a  clear  account  of  the  battle 
of  the  Little  Big  Horn.  It  is  the  only  simple, 
reliable,  and  brief  account  of  that  battle  that 
has  been  put  in  shape  for  children's  reading. 

I  send  this  little  book  out  with  pride  and  sat 
isfaction,  knowing  that  it  is  worthy  of  a  long 
life,  for  neither  writer  nor  editor  with  respect 
for  humanity  will  put  a  hand  to  anything  not 
worthy  of  being  permanent. 


MARY  E.  BURT. 


THE  JOHN  A.  BROWNING  SCHOOL, 
February,  1901. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  On  Leaving  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  .         3 

II.  Political  Temptations       ....         9 

III.  Westward  Ho  ! 16 

IV.  An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians         .       33 
V.  The  Negro  as  a  Soldier    .         .                  .46 

VI.  The  Home  of  the  Buffalo        .         .         .53 

VII.  The  First  Fight  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry       60 

VIII.  Battle  of  the  Washita      .         .         .         .75 

IX.  The  Boy  General  in  the  Northwest         .       81 

X.  An  April  Blizzard            .          .         .         .87 

XI.  On  to  Fort  Lincoln         ....       98 

XII.  Camping  Among  the  Sioux     .         .         .109 

XIII.  Adventures  During  the  March         .         .119 

XIV.  The  Yellowstone  Expedition  .         .126 
XV.  The  Return  to  Fort  Lincoln            .         .134 


Contents 


CHAPTER 

XVI.    Life  at  Fort  Lincoln 


PAGE 
141 


XVII.  Capture    and    Escape    of  Rain-in-the- 

Face          .         .         .  .         .  .150 

XVIII.  An  Indian  Council       .  .         .  .163 

XIX.  Life  on  the  Reservation  .         .  .167 

XX.  Leave  of  Absence         .  .  .     177 

XXI.  Our  Life's  Last  Chapter  .         .  .188 

XXII.  The  Battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn  .     198 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

GENERAL  CUSTER  IN  His  STUDY       .     .     Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

GENERAL  CUSTER  AND  His  INDIAN  SCOUTS  .  .  80 
THE  BATTLE-FIELD  OF  LITTLE  BIG  HORN  .  .  .160 
COMANCHE,  CAPTAIN  KEOUGH'S  HORSE  .  .  .192 


THE    BOY   GENERAL 


CHAPTER  I 

ON  LEAVING  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC 

GENERAL  CUSTER  graduated  at  West  Point 
just  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  battle  of  Bull 
Run.  He  served  with  his  regiment — the  Fifth 
Cavalry — for  a  time,  but  eventually  was  ap 
pointed  aide-de-camp  to  General  McClellan. 
He  came  to  his  sister's  home  in  my  native 
town,  Monroe,  Michigan,  on  leave  of  absence, 
during  the  winter  of  1863,  and  there  I  first  met 
him. 

In  the  spring  he  returned  to  the  army  in 
Virginia,  and  was  promoted  that  summer,  at 
the  age  of  twenty-three,  from  captain  to  brig 
adier-general.  During  the  following  autumn 
he  came  to  Monroe  again  to  recover  from  a 
flesh-wound,  which,  though  not  serious,  dis 
abled  him  somewhat.  At  that  time  we  became 
engaged.  When  his  twenty  days'  leave  of  ab 
sence  had  expired  he  went  back  to  duty,  and 
did  not  return  until  a  few  days  before  our 
marriage,  in  February,  1864. 

We  had  no  sooner  reached  Washington  on 
3 


4  The  Boy  General 

our  wedding-journey  than  telegrams  came,  fol 
lowing  one  another  in  quick  succession,  asking 
him  to  give  up  the  rest  of  his  leave  of  absence, 
and  hasten  without  an  hour's  delay  to  the  front. 
I  begged  so  hard  not  to  be  left  behind  that  I 
finally  prevailed.  The  result  was  that  I  found 
myself  in  a  few  hours  on  the  extreme  wing 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  in  an  isolated 
Virginia  farm-house,  finishing  my  honeymoon 
alone.  I  had  so  besought  him  to  allow  me  to 
come  that  I  did  not  dare  own  to  myself  the 
desolation  and  fright  I  felt.  In  the  prepara 
tion  for  the  hurried  raid  which  my  husband 
had  been  ordered  to  make  he  had  sent  to  cav 
alry  head-quarters  to  provide  for  my  safety, 
and  troops  were  in  reality  near,  although  I 
could  not  see  them. 

The  General's  old  colored  servant,  Eliza, 
comforted  me,  and  the  Southern  family  in  the 
house  took  pity  upon  my  anxiety.  It  was  a  sud 
den  plunge  into  a  life  of  vicissitude,  and  I  hard 
ly  remember  the  time  during  the  twelve  years 
that  followed  when  I  was  not  in  fear  of  some 
immediate  peril,  or  in  dread  of  some  danger 
that  threatened.  After  the  raid  was  ended, 
we  spent  some  delightful  weeks  together,  and 
when  the  regular  spring  campaign  began  I  re 
turned  to  Washington,  where  I  remained  until 


Leaving  the  Army  of  the  Potomac      5 

the  surrender  and  the  close  of  the  war.  After 
that  we  went  to  Texas  for  a  year,  my  husband 
still  acting1  as  major-general  in  command  of 
volunteers. 

He  did  not  even  see  the  last  of  that  grand 
review  of  the  23d  and  24th  of  May,  1865.  On 
the  first  day  he  was  permitted  to  doff  his  hat 
and  bow  low,  as  he  proudly  led  that  superb 
body  of  men,  the  Third  Division  of  Cavalry,  in 
front  of  the  grand  stand,  where  sat  the  "  pow 
ers  that  be."  Along  the  line  of  the  division, 
each  soldier  straightened  himself  in  the  saddle, 
and  felt  the  proud  blood  fill  his  veins,  as  he 
realized  that  he  was  one  of  those  who,  in  six 
months,  had  taken  one  hundred  and  eleven  of 
the  enemy's  guns,  sixty-five  battle-flags,  and 
upward  of  10,000  prisoners  of  war,  while  they 
had  never  lost  a  flag,  or  failed  to  capture  a  gun 
for  which  they  fought. 

In  the  afternoon  of  that  memorable  day  Gen 
eral  Custer  and  his  staff  rode  to  the  outskirts 
of  Washington,  where  his  beloved  Third  Cav 
alry  Division  had  encamped  after  returning 
from  taking  part  in  the  review.  The  trumpet 
was  sounded,  and  the  call  brought  these  war 
worn  veterans  out  once  more,  not  for  a  charge, 
not  for  duty,  but  to  say  farewell.  Down  the 
rode  their  yellow-haired  "  boy  general," 


6  The  Boy  General 

waving  his  hat,  but  setting  his  teeth  and  trying 
to  hold  with  iron  nerve  the  quivering  muscles 
of  his  speaking  face  ;  keeping  his  eyes  wide 
open,  that  the  tears  might  not  fall. 

Cheer  after  cheer  rose  on  that  soft  spring 
air.  Some  enthusiastic  voice  started  up  afresh, 
before  the  hurrahs  were  done,  "  A  tiger  for  old 
Curley ! "  Off  came  the  hats  again,  and  up 
went  hundreds  of  arms,  waving  the  good-by 
and  wafting  innumerable  blessings  after  the 
man  who  was  sending  them  home  in  a  blaze  of 
glory.  I  began  to  realize,  as  I  watched  this 
sad  parting,  that  no  friendship  was  like  that 
cemented  by  danger  on  the  battle-field. 

The  soldiers,  accustomed  to  suppression 
through  strict  military  discipline,  now  vehe 
mently  expressed  their  feelings ;  and  though 
it  gladdened  the  General's  heart,  it  was  still 
hard  work  to  endure  it  without  show  of  emo 
tion.  As  he  rode  up  to  where  I  was  waiting, 
he  could  not  trust  himself  to  speak  to  me.  To 
those  intrepid  men  he  was  indebted  for  his 
success.  Their  unfailing  trust  in  his  judgment, 
their  willingness  to  follow  where  he  led — ah ! 
he  knew  well  that  one  looks  upon  such  men 
but  once  in  a  lifetime.  Some  of  the  soldiers 
called  out  for  the  General's  wife.  The  staff 
urged  me  to  ride  forward  to  the  troops,  and  I 


Leaving  the  Army  of  the  Potomac      7 

tried  to  do  so,  but  after  a  few  steps  I  begged 
those  beside  whom  I  rode  to  take  me  back,  I 
was  too  overcome  from  having  seen  the  suffer 
ing  on  my  husband's  face  to  endure  it. 

As  the  officers  gathered  about  the  General 
and  wrung  his  hand  in  parting,  to  my  surprise 
the  soldiers  gave  me  a  cheer.  Though  very 
grateful  for  the  tribute  to  me  as  their  acknowl 
edged  comrade,  I  did  not  feel  that  I  deserved  it. 

Once  more  the  General  leaped  into  the  sad 
dle,  and  we  rode  out  of  sight.  How  glad  I 
was,  as  I  watched  the  set  features  of  my  hus 
band's  face,  saw  his  eyes  fixed  immovably  in 
front  of  him,  listened  in  vain  for  one  word 
from  his  overburdened  heart,  that  I,  being  a 
woman,  need  not  tax  every  nerve  to  suppress 
emotion,  but  could  let  the  tears  stream  down 
my  face,  on  all  our  silent  way  back  to  the 
city. 

Then  began  the  gathering  of  our  "  traps," 
a  hasty  collection  of  a  few  suitable  things  for  a 
Southern  climate,  orders  about  shipping  the 
horses,  a  wild  tearing  around  of  the  improv 
ident,  thoughtless  staff  —  good  fighters,  but 
poor  providers.  It  was  a  comfort,  when  I 
found  myself  grieving  over  the  parting  with 
my  husband's  division,  that  our  military  fam 
ily  were  to  go  with  us.  At  dark  we  were  on 


8  The  Boy  General 

the  cars,  with  our  faces  turned  southward. 
To  General  Custer  this  move  had  been  unex 
pected.  General  Sheridan  knew  that  he  need 
ed  little  time  to  decide,  so  he  sent  for  him  and 
asked  if  he  would  like  to  take  command  of  a 
division  of  cavalry  on  the  Red  River  in  Loui 
siana,  and  march  throughout  Texas,  with  the 
possibility  of  eventually  entering  Mexico. 

The  Great  Powers  of  Europe,  casting  jealous 
eyes  on  the  promise  of  a  greater  power  in  our 
young  republic,  and  thinking  to  take  advan^ 
tage  of  the  Civil  War,  had  agreed  to  place  the 
supernumerary  Austrian  Prince,  Maximilian, 
on  the  throne  in  Mexico,  and  cede  the  country 
to  France  to  keep  a  balance  of  power.  Our 
Government  felt  the  time  had  come  to  con 
vince  France  that  if  there  was  to  be  an  invasion 
of  Mexico  the  one  to  do  the  seizure  and  gather 
in  the  spoils  was  Brother  Jonathan.  So  an 
army  of  sufficient  strength  was  sent  into  Texas, 
led  by  General  Custer,  to  settle  the  question  of 
invasion  by  the  mere  presence  of  our  troops 
so  near  the  border. 

Very  wisely  the  General  kept  a  part  of  the 
understanding  why  he  was  sent  South  from 
the  "  weepy  "  member  of  his  family.  He  pre 
ferred  transportation  by  steamer  rather  than 
to  be  floated  southward  on  a  flood  of  feminine 


Political  Temptations  9 

tears.  In  order  to  spare  me  anxiety  he  spoke 
only  of  that  part  of  the  order  pertaining  to  the 
establishment  of  law  in  Texas.  The  State  hav 
ing  been  outside  the  limit  where  the  armies 
marched  and  fought,  was  unhappily  unaware 
that  the  war  was  over,  and  it  had  become  the 
home  of  bushwhackers  and  all  kinds  of  lawless 
desperadoes.  Before  the  winter  was  over  the 
civil  authorities  of  Texas  began  to  be  able  to 
carry  out  the  laws.  It  was  considered  un 
necessary  to  retain  the  division  of  cavalry  in 
the  South.  The  anticipated  trouble  with  Mex 
ico  was  over  and  the  General  was  ordered 
North  to  await  his  assignment  to  a  new  sta 
tion. 


CHAPTER  II 

POLITICAL  TEMPTATIONS 

OUR  home-coming  was  a  great  pleasure  to  us 
and  to  our  two  families.  My  own  father  was 
proud  of  the  General's  administration  of  civil 
as  well  as  military  affairs  in  Texas,  and  enjoyed 
the  congratulatory  letter  of  Governor  Hamil 
ton  deeply.  The  temptations  to  induce  Gen 
eral  Custer  to  leave  the  service  and  enter  civil 
life  began  at  once.  He  had  not  been  subjected 


io  The  Boy   General 

to  such  allurements  the  year  after  the  war,  when 
the  country  was  offering  posts  of  honor  to  re 
turned  soldiers,  but  this  summer  of  our  return 
from  Texas,  all  sorts  of  suggestions  were  made. 
I  can  scarcely  see  now  how  a  man  of  twenty- 
five  could  have  turned  his  back  upon  such  allur 
ing  schemes  for  wealth  as  were  held  out  to  him. 
It  was  at  that  time  much  more  customary  than 
now,  even,  to  establish  corporations  with  an 
officer's  name  at  the  head  who  was  known  to 
have  come  through  the  war  with  irreproachable 
honor.  The  country  was  so  unsettled  by  the 
four  years  of  strife  that  it  was  like  beginning 
all  over  again,  when  old  companies  were  started 
anew.  Confidence  had  to  be  struggled  for,  and 
names  of  prominent  men  as  associate  partners 
or  presidents  were  sought  for  persistently. 

Politics  offered  another  form  of  temptation. 
The  people  demanded  for  their  representatives 
the  soldiers  under  whom  they  had  served,  pre 
ferring  to  follow  the  same  leaders  in  the  politi 
cal  field  that  had  led  them  in  battle.  The  old 
soldiers,  and  civilians  also,  talked  openly  of 
General  Custer  for  Congressman  or  Governor. 
It  was  a  summer  of  excitement  and  uncertainty. 
How  could  it  be  otherwise  to  a  boy  who,  five 
brief  years  before,  was  a  beardless  youth  with 
no  apparent  future  before  him  ?  When  the 


Political  Temptations  1 1 

General  was  offered  an  appointment  as  foreign 
Minister,  I  kept  silence  as  best  I  could,  but  it 
was  desperately  hard  work.  I  was  inwardly 
very  proud,  but  I  concealed  the  fact  because 
my  husband  expressed  such  horror  of  inflated 
people. 

Among-  the  first  propositions  was  one  for  the 
General  to  take  temporary  service  with  Mexico. 
This  scheme  found  no  favor  with  me.  It  meant 
more  fighting  and  further  danger  for  my  hus 
band,  and  anxiety  and  separation  for  me. 

Carvajal,  who  was  then  at  the  head  of  the 
Juarez  military  government,  offered  the  post 
of  Adjutant-General  of  Mexico  to  General  Cus- 
ter.  The  money  inducements  were,  to  give 
twice  the  salary  in  gold  that  a  major-general  in 
our  army  receives.  As  his  salary  had  come 
down  from  a  major-general's  pay  of  $8,000  to 
$2,000,  this  might  have  been  a  temptation. 
There  was  a  stipulation  that  one  or  two  thou 
sand  men  should  be  raised  in  the  United  States, 
any  debts  assumed  in  organizing  this  force  to 
be  paid  by  the  Mexican  Liberal  Government. 
Seftor  Romero,  the  Mexican  Minister,  did  what 
he  could  to  further  the  application  of  Carvajal, 
and  General  Grant  wrote  his  approval  of  Gen 
eral  Ouster's  acceptance,  in  a  letter  in  which  he 
speaks  of  my  husband  in  unusually  flattering 


12  The  Boy   General 

terms  as  one  "  who  rendered  such  distinguished 
service  as  a  cavalry  officer  during  the  war," 
adding,  "  There  was  no  officer  in  that  branch 
of  the  service  who  had  the  confidence  of  Gen 
eral  Sheridan  to  a  greater  degree  than  General 
Custer,  and  there  is  no  officer  in  whose  judg 
ment  I  have  greater  faith  than  in  Sheridan's. 
Please  understand,  then,  that  I  mean  to  endorse 
General  Custer  in  a  high  degree." 

The  stagnation  of  peace  was  being  felt  by 
those  who  had  lived  a  breathless  four  years  at 
the  front.  However  much  they  might  rejoice 
that  carnage  had  ceased,  it  was  very  hard  to 
quiet  themselves  into  a  life  of  inaction.  No 
wonder  our  officers  went  to  the  Khedive  for 
service  !  no  wonder  this  promise  of  active  duty 
was  an  inviting  prospect  for  my  husband !  It 
took  a  long  time  for  civilians,  even,  to  tone 
themselves  down  to  the  jog-trot  of  peace. 

Maximilian  was  then  uncertain  in  his  hold 
on  the  Government  he  had  established,  and  it 
would  have  been  an  easy  matter  to  drive  out 
the  usurper.  The  question  was  settled  by  the 
Government's  refusing  to  grant  the  year's  leave 
for  which  application  was  made,  and  the  Gen 
eral  was  too  fond  of  his  country  to  take  any  but 
temporary  service  in  another. 

This  decision  made  me  very  grateful  and  when 


Political  Temptations  13 

there  was  no  longer  danger  of  further  exposure 
of  life,  I  was  also  thankful  for  the  expressions 
of  confidence  and  admiration  of  my  husband's 
ability  as  a  soldier  that  this  contemplated  move 
had  drawn  out.  I  was  willing  my  husband 
should  accept  any  offer  he  had  received  except 
the  last.  I  was  tempted  to  beg  him  to  resign  ; 
for  this  meant  peace  of  mind  and  a  tranquil  life 
for  me.  It  was  my  father's  counsel  alone  that 
kept  me  from  urging  each  new  proposition  to 
take  up  the  life  of  a  civilian.  He  advised  me 
to  forget  myself.  He  knew  well  what  a  diffi 
cult  task  it  was  to  school  myself  to  endure  the 
life  on  which  I  had  entered  so  thoughtlessly  as 
a  girl. 

He  had  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  and  could 
not  help  reminding  me  occasionally,  when  I 
told  him  despairingly  that  I  could  not,  I  simply 
would  not,  live  a  life  where  I  could  not  be  al 
ways  with  my  husband,  of  days  before  I  knew 
the  General,  when  I  declared  to  my  parents,  if 
ever  I  did  marry  it  would  not  be  a  dentist,  as 
our  opposite  neighbor  appeared  never  to  leave 
the  house.  It  seemed  to  me  then  that  the  wife 
had  a  great  deal  to  endure  in  the  constant  pres 
ence  of  her  husband. 

My  father,  strict  in  his  sense  of  duty,  con 
stantly  appealed  to  me  to  consider  only  my 


14  The  Boy  General 

husband's  interests,  and  forget  my  own  selfish 
desires.  He  used  in  those  days  to  walk  the 
floor  and  say  to  me,  "  My  child,  put  no  obstacles 
in  the  way  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  destiny. 
He  chose  his  profession.  He  is  a  born  soldier. 
There  he  must  abide." 

In  the  midst  of  this  indecision,  when  the 
General  was  obliged  to  be  in  Washington  on 
business,  my  father  was  taken  ill.  The  one 
whom  I  so  sorely  needed  in  all  those  ten  years 
that  followed,  when  I  was  often  alone  in  the 
midst  of  dangers  and  anxieties,  stepped  into 
heaven  as  peacefully  as  if  going  into  another 
room.  His  last  words  were  to  urge  me  to  do 
my  duty  as  a  soldier's  wife.  In  the  autumn 
the  appointment  to  the  Seventh  Cavalry  came, 
with  orders  to  go  to  Fort  Garland.  One  would 
have  imagined,  by  the  jubilant  manner  in  which 
this  official  document  was  unfolded  and  read  to 
me,  that  it  was  the  inheritance  of  a  principality. 
Out  of  our  camp-luggage  a  map  was  produced, 
and  Fort  Garland  was  discovered,  after  long 
prowling  about  with  the  first  finger,  in  the 
space  given  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Then 
the  General  launched  into  visions  of  what  un 
speakable  pleasure  he  would  have,  fishing  for 
mountain  trout  and  hunting  deer. 

It  would  have  been  a  stolid  soul  indeed  that 


Political  Temptations  15 

did  not  begin  to  think  Fort  Garland  a  sort  of 
earthly  paradise.  The  sober  colors  in  this  vivid 
picture  meant  a  small,  obscure  post,  several  hun 
dred  miles  from  any  railroad,  not  much  more 
than  a  handful  of  men  to  command,  the  most 
complete  isolation,  and  no  prospect  of  an  active 
campaign,  as  it  was  far  from  the  range  of  the 
warlike  Indians.  But  Fort  Garland  soon  faded 
from  our  view,  in  the  excitement  and  interest 
over  Fort  Riley,  as  soon  as  our  orders  were 
changed  to  that  post.  We  had  no  difficulty  in 
finding  it  on  the  map,  as  it  was  comparatively 
an  old  post,  and  the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad 
was  within  ten  miles  of  the  Government  reser 
vation. 

We  ascertained,  by  inquiry,  that  it  was  better 
to  buy  household  articles  at  Leavenworth,  than 
to  attempt  to  carry  along  even  a  simple  outfit. 
It  was  difficult  to  realize  that  Kansas  had  a  city 
of  25,000  inhabitants,  with  several  daily  papers. 
Still,  I  was  quite  willing  to  trust  to  Leaven- 
worth  for  the  purchase  of  household  furniture, 
as  it  seemed  to  me  that  housekeeping  in  garri 
son  quarters  was  a  sort  of  camping  out  after  all, 
with  one  foot  in  a  house  and  another  in  position 
to  put  into  the  stirrup  and  spin  "  over  the  hills 
and  far  away." 


1 6  The  Boy  General 


CHAPTER  III 

WESTWARD   HO! 

WHEN  we  were  ready  to  set  out  for  the  West, 
in  October,  1866,  our  caravan  summed  up  some 
thing  like  this  list:  my  husband's  three  horses, 
my  own  horse,  Custis  Lee,  several  hounds  given 
to  the  General  by  the  planters  with  whom  he 
had  hunted  deer  in  Texas,  a  superb  greyhound, 
his  head  carried  so  loftily  as  he  walked  his 
lordly  way  among  the  other  dogs,  that  I  thought 
he  would  have  asked  to  carry  his  family-tree  on 
his  brass  collar,  could  he  have  spoken  for  his 
rights.  Last  of  all,  some  one  had  given  us  the 
ugliest  white  bull-dog  I  ever  saw.  But  in 
time  we  came  to  think  that  the  twist  in  his 
lumpy  tail,  the  curve  in  his  bow  legs,  the  am 
bitious  nose,  which  drew  the  upper  lip  above  the 
heaviest  of  protruding  jaws,  were  simply  beau 
ties,  for  the  dog  was  so  affectionate  and  loyal, 
that  everything  which  at  first  seemed  a  draw 
back,  leaned  finally  to  virtue's  side.  He  was 
well  named  "  Turk,"  and  a  "  set-to  "  or  so  with 
Byron,  the  domineering  greyhound,  established 
his  rights,  so  that  it  only  needed  a  deep  growl 


Westward  Ho  !  1 7 

and  an  uprising  of  the  bristles  on  his  back  to 
recall  to  the  overbearing  aristocrat  some  whole 
some  lessons  given  him  when  the  acquaintance 
began.  Turk  was  devoted  to  the  colt  Phil,  and 
the  intimacy  of  the  two  was  comical ;  Phil  re 
paid  Turk's  little  playful  nips  at  the  legs  by 
lifting  him  in  his  teeth  as  high  as  the  feed-box, 
by  the  loose  skin  of  his  back.  But  nothing 
could  get  a  whimper  out  of  him,  for  he  was  the 
pluckiest  of  brutes.  He  curled  himself  up  in 
Phil's  stall  when  he  slept,  and  in  travelling  was 
his  close  companion  in  the  box-car.  If  we  took 
the  dog  to  drive  with  us,  he  had  to  be  in  the 
buggy,  as  our  time  otherwise  would  have 
been  constantly  engaged  in  dragging  him  off 
from  any  dog  that  strutted  around  him  and 
needed  a  lesson  in  humility.  When  Turk  was 
returned  to  Phil,  after  any  separation,  they 
greeted  each  other  in  a  most  human  way.  Turk 
leaped  around  the  colt,  and  in  turn  was  rubbed 
and  nosed  about  with  speaking  little  snorts  of 
welcome.  When  we  came  home  to  this  ugly 
duckling,  he  usually  made  a  spring  and  landed 
in  my  lap,  as  if  he  were  the  tiniest,  silkiest  little 
Skye  in  dogdom.  He  half  closed  his  eyes,  with 
that  expression  peculiar  to  affectionate  dogs, 
and  did  his  little  smile  at  my  husband  and  me 
by  raising  his  upper  lip  and  showing  his  front 


1 8  The  Boy   General 

teeth.  All  this  with  an  ignoring  of  the  other 
dogs  and  an  air  of  exclusion,  as  if  we  three — his 
master,  mistress,  and  himself — composed  all 
there  was  of  earth  worth  knowing. 

We  had  two  servants,  one  being  Eliza,  our 
faithful  colored  woman.  She  had  come  home 
with  me  to  care  for  my  father  in  his  last  illness. 
We  had  also  a  worthless  colored  boy,  who  had 
returned  with  the  horses.  What  intellect  he 
had  was  employed  in  devising  schemes  to  es 
cape  work. 

Last  of  all  to  mention  in  our  party  was  Diana, 
the  pretty  belle  of  Monroe.  The  excitement 
of  anticipation  gave  added  brightness  to  her 
eyes,  and  the  head,  sunning  over  with  a  hun 
dred  curls,  danced  and  coquetted  as  she  talked 
of  the  future. 

One  of  our  Detroit  friends  invited  us  to  go 
with  a  party  to  St.  Louis;  so  we  had  a  gay  send- 
off  for  our  new  home.  I  don't  remember  to 
have  had  an  anxiety  as  to  the  future ;  I  was 
wholly  given  over  to  the  joy  of  realizing  that 
the  war  was  over,  and  now  the  one  great  danger 
was  passed,  I  felt  as  if  all  that  sort  of  life  was 
forever  ended.  In  St.  Louis  we  had  a  round  of 
gayety.  The  great  Fair  was  then  at  its  best, 
for  everyone  was  making  haste  to  dispel  the 
gloom  that  our  terrible  war  had  cast  over  the 


Westward  Ho!  19 

land.  There  was  not  a  corner  of  the  Fair 
ground  to  which  my  husband  did  not  penetrate. 
The  junketing  and  frolic  came  to  an  end  in 
a  few  days,  and  our  faces  were  again  turned 
westward  to  a  life  about  as  different  from  the 
glitter  of  a  gay  city  in  a  holiday  week  as  can  be 
imagined.  Leavenworth  was  our  first  halt,  and 
its  well-built  streets  and  excellent  stores  sur 
prised  us.  It  had  long  been  the  outfitting  place 
for  our  officers.  The  soldiers  drew  supplies 
from  the  military  post,  and  the  officers  furnished 
themselves  with  camp  equipage  from  the  city. 
Here  also  they  bought  condemned  ambulances, 
and  put  them  in  order  for  travelling-carriages 
for  their  families.  I  remember  getting  a  faint 
glimmer  of  the  climate  we  were  about  to  endure, 
by  seeing  a  wagon  floored,  and  its  sides  lined 
with  canvas,  which  was  stuffed  to  keep  out  the 
cold,  while  a  little  sheet-iron  stove  was  firmly 
fixed  at  one  end,  with  a  bit  of  miniature  pipe 
protruding  through  the  roof.  Everything  was 
transported  in  the  great  army-wagons  called 
prairie-schooners.  These  were  well  named,  as 
the  two  ends  of  the  wagon  inclined  upward, 
like  the  bow  and  stern  of  a  fore-and-after.  It  is 
hard  to  realize  how  strange  a  long  train  of  sup 
plies  for  one  of  the  distant  posts  looked  as  it 
wound  slowly  over  the  plains.  The  blue  wagon 


2O  The  Boy  General 

beds,  with  white  canvas  covers  rising  up  ever 
so  high,  disclosed,  in  the  small  circle  where 
they  were  drawn  together  at  the  back,  all  kinds 
of  material  for  the  clothing  and  feeding  of  the 
army  in  the  distant  Territories.  The  number 
of  mules  to  a  wagon  varies ;  sometimes  there 
are  four,  and  again  six. 

The  driver,  if  he  is  not  a  stolid  Mexican,  takes 
much  pride  in  his  mules.  By  some  unknown 
means,  poor  as  he  is,  he  possesses  himself  of 
fox-tails,  which  he  fastens  to  their  bridle,  and 
the  vagaries  in  the  clipping  of  the  poor  beasts' 
tails  would  set  the  fashion  to  a  Paris  hair 
dresser.  They  are  shaved  a  certain  distance, 
and  then  a  tuft  is  left,  making  a  bushy  ring. 
The  coats  of  the  mules  sometimes  shine  like 
the  fine  hair  of  a  good  horse.  Alas  !  not  when, 
in  the  final  stages  of  a  long  march,  the  jaded, 
half-starved  beasts  dragged  themselves  over 
the  trail.  Driver  and  lead  mules,  even,  lose  am 
bition  under  the  scorching  sun,  and  with  the 
insufficient  food  and  long  water  famines. 

My  husband  had  the  utmost  respect  for  a 
mule's  sense  When  I  looked  upon  mules  as 
dull,  half-alive  animals,  he  bade  me  watch  how 
deceitful  were  appearances,  as  they  showed 
such  cunning,  and  evinced  the  wisdom  of  a 
quick-witted  thoroughbred,  when  apparently 


Westward  Ho  !  21 

they  were  unobserving,  sleepy  brutes.  It  was 
the  General  who  made  me  notice  the  skill  and 
rapidity  with  which  a  group  of  six  mules  would 
straighten  out  what  seemed  to  be  a  hopeless 
tangle  of  chains  and  harness,  into  which  they 
had  kicked  themselves  when  there  was  a  dis 
turbance  among  them.  One  crack  of  the  whip 
from  the  driver  who  had  tethered  them  after  a 
march,  accompanied  by  a  plain  statement  of  his 
opinion  of  such  "  fools,"  would  send  the  whole 
collection  wide  apart,  and  it  was  but  a  twink 
ling  before  they  extricated  themselves  from 
what  I  thought  a  hopeless  mess.  No  chains 
or  straps  were  broken,  and  a  meek,  subdued 
look  pervading  the  group  left  not  a  trace  of 
the  active  heels  that  a  moment  before  had  filled 
the  air. 

The  prairie-schooner  disappeared  with  the 
advancing  railroad ;  but  I  am  glad  to  see  that 
General  Meigs  has  perpetuated  his  memory, 
by  causing  this  old  means  of  transportation  to 
be  made  one  of  the  designs  in  the  beautiful 
frieze  carved  around  the  outside  of  the  Pension 
Office  at  Washington.  Ungainly  and  cumber 
some  as  these  wagons  were,  they  merit  some 
such  monument,  as  part  of  the  history  of  the 
early  days  of  frontier  life  in  our  country.  We 
were  in  the  West  several  years  before  the  rail- 


22  The  Boy   General 

road  was  completed  to  Denver,  and  the  overland 
trains  became  an  every-day  sight  to  us.  Citi 
zens  used  oxen  a  great  deal  for  transportation, 
and  there  is  no  picture  that  represents  the 
weariness  and  laggard  progress  of  life  like  an 
ox-train  bound  for  Santa  Fe  or  Denver.  The 
prairie-schooner  might  set  out  freshly  painted, 
but  it  soon  became  gray  with  layer  upon  layer 
of  alkali  dust.  The  oxen — well,  nothing  save  a 
snail  can  move  more  slowly,  and  the  exhaustion 
of  these  beasts,  after  weeks  of  travel,  was  piti 
ful.  Imagine,  also,  the  unending  vigil  when  the 
trains  were  insecurely  guarded;  for  in  those 
days  there  was  an  immense  unprotected  fron 
tier,  and  seemingly  only  a  handful  of  cavalry. 

"  The  Indians  were,  unfortunately,  located 
on  the  great  highway  of  Western  travel ;  and 
commerce,  not  less  than  emigration,  demanded 
their  removal."  There  are  many  conflicting 
opinions  as  to  the  course  pursued  to  clear  the 
way;  but  I  only  wish  to  speak  now  of  the  im 
pression  the  trains  made  upon  me,  as  we  con 
stantly  saw  the  long,  dusty  column  wending  its 
serpentine  way  over  the  sun-baked  earth.  A 
group  of  cavalry,  with  their  drooping  horses, 
rode  in  front  and  at  the  rear.  The  wagon- 
master  was  usually  the  very  spirit  of  valor.  It 
is  true  he  formed  such  a  habit  of  shooting  that 


Westward  Ho  !  23 

he  grew  indiscriminate,  and  should  any  of  the 
lawless  desperadoes  whom  he  hired  as  team 
sters  ruffle  his  blood,  kept  up  to  boiling-heat 
by  suspense,  physical  exposure,  and  exasperat 
ing  employees,  he  knew  no  way  of  settling 
troubles  except  the  effectual  quietus  that  a 
bullet  secures. 

It  seemed  to  be  expected  that  the  train-master 
would  be  a  villain.  Whatever  was  their  record 
as  to  the  manner  of  arranging  private  disputes, 
a  braver  class  of  men  never  followed  a  trail,  and 
some  of  them  were  far  superior  to  their  lot. 
Their  tender  care  of  women  who  crossed  in 
these  ox-trains,  to  join  their  husbands,  ought  to 
be  commemorated.  I  have  somewhere  read 
one  of  their  remarks  when  a  girl,  going  to  her 
mother,  had  been  secreted  in  a  private  wagon, 
and  there  was  no  knowledge  of  her  presence 
until  the  Indians  were  discovered  to  be  near. 
"  'Tain't  no  time  to  be  teamin'  women  folks  over 
the  trail  with  sech  a  fearsom  sperit  for  Injuns 
as  I  be."  He,  like  some  of  the  bravest  men  I 
have  known,  spoke  of  himself  as  timid,  while 
he  knew  no  fear.  It  certainly  unnerved  the 
most  valiant  man  when  Indians  were  lurking 
near,  to  realize  the  fate  that  hung  over  women 
intrusted  to  their  care.  It  makes  the  heart 
beat,  even  to  look  at  a  picture  of  the  old  mode 


24  The  Boy  General 

of  traversing  the  highway  of  Western  travel. 
The  sight  of  the  pictured  train,  peacefully  lum 
bering  on  its  sleepy  way,  the  scarcely  revolving 
wheels,  creaking  out  a  protest  against  even 
that  effort,  recalls  the  agony,  the  suspense,  the 
horror  with  which  every  inch  of  that  long  route 
has  been  made.  The  heaps  of  stones  by  the 
wayside,  or  the  buffalo  bones,  collected  to 
mark  the  spot  where  some  man  fell  from  an 
Indian  arrow,  are  now  disappearing.  The  hur 
ricanes  beating  upon  the  hastily  prepared  me 
morials  have  scattered  the  bleached  bones  of 
the  bison,  and  rolled  into  the  tufted  grass  the 
few  stones  with  which  the  train-men,  at  risk  of 
their  own  lives,  delayed  long  enough  to  mark 
their  comrade's  grave. 

The  faded  photographs  or  the  old  prints  of 
those  overland  trains  speak  to  me  but  one  story. 
Instantly  I  recall  the  hourly  vigilance,  the  rest 
less  eyes  scanning  the  horizon,  the  breathless 
suspense,  when  the  pioneers  or  soldiers  knew 
from  unmistakable  signs  that  the  Indian  was 
lying  in  wait.  In  what  contrast  to  the  dull, 
scarcely  moving  oxen  were  these  keen-eyed 
heroes,  with  every  nerve  strained,  every  sense 
on  the  alert.  And  how  they  were  maddened 
by  the  fate  that  consigned  them,  at  such  mo 
ments,  to  the  mercy  of  "  dull,  driven  cattle." 


Westward  Ho  !  25 

When  I  have  seen  officers  and  soldiers  lay  their 
hands  lovingly  on  the  neck  of  their  favorite 
horse,  and  say,  "  He  saved  my  life,"  I  knew 
well  what  a  man  felt  when  his  horse  took  fire 
at  knowledge  of  danger,  and  sped  on  the  wings 
of  the  wind,  till  he  was  lost  to  his  pursuers,  a 
tiny  black  speck  on  the  horizon.  The  pathos  of 
a  soldier's  parting  with  his  horse  moved  us  to 
quick  sympathy.  It  often  happens  that  a 
trooper  retains  the  same  animal  through  his  en 
tire  enlistment,  and  it  comes  to  be  his  most  in 
timate  friend.  There  is  nothing  he  will  not  do 
to  provide  him  with  food ;  if  the  forage  runs 
low  or  the  grazing  is  insufficient,  stealing  for 
his  horse  is  reckoned  a  virtue  among  soldiers. 
Imagine,  then,  the  anxiety,  the  real  suffering, 
with  which  a  soldier  watches  his  faithful  beast 
growing  weaker  day  by  day,  from  exhaustion 
or  partial  starvation.  He  walks  beside  him  to 
spare  his  strength,  and  finally,  when  it  is  no 
longer  possible  to  keep  up  with  the  column,  and 
the  soldier  knows  how  fatal  the  least  delay  may 
be  in  an  Indian  country,  it  is  more  pitiful  than 
almost  any  sight  I  recall,  the  sadness  of  his  de 
parture  from  the  skeleton,  whose  eyes  follow 
his  master  in  wondering  affection,  as  he  walks 
away  with  the  saddle  and  accoutrements. 
If  the  wagons  held  merchandise  only,  by 


26  The  Boy  General 

which  the  pioneer  hoped  to  grow  rich,  the  risk 
and  suspense  attending  these  endless  marches 
were  not  worth  commemorating ;  but  the  bulk 
of  the  freight  was  the  actual  necessaries  of  life. 
Conceive,  if  you  can,  how  these  brave  men  felt 
themselves  chained,  as  they  drove  or  guarded 
the  food  for  those  living  far  in  advance.  There 
were  not  enough  to  admit  of  a  charge  on  the 
enemy,  and  the  defensive  is  an  exasperating 
position  for  a  soldier  or  frontiersman.  He 
longs  to  advance  on  the  foe ;  but  no  such  priv 
ilege  was  allowed  them,  for  in  these  toilsome 
journeys  they  had  often  to  use  precautions  to 
hide  themselves.  If  Indians  were  discovered 
to  be  roaming  near,  the  camp  was  established, 
trains  corralled,  animals  secured  inside  a  tem 
porary  stockade ;  the  fires  for  coffee  were  for 
bidden,  for  smoke  rises  like  a  funnel,  and  hangs 
out  an  instant  signal  in  that  clear  air.  Even 
the  consoling  pipe  was  smoked  under  a  sage- 
bush.  Few  words  were  spoken,  the  loud  oaths 
sank  into  low  mutterings,  and  the  bray  of  a 
hungry  mule,  the  clank  of  wagon-chains,  or  the 
stamping  of  cattle  on  the  baked  earth,  sounded 
like  thunder  in  the  ears  of  the  anxious,  expect 
ant  men. 

Fortunately,  our  journey  in  these  trains  was 
not  at  once  forced  upon  us  at  Leavenworth. 


Westward  Ho  !  27 

The  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad,  projected  to  Den 
ver,  was  built  within  ten  miles  of  Fort  Riley, 
and  it  was  to  be  the  future  duty  of  the  Seventh 
Cavalry  to  guard  the  engineers  in  building  the 
remainder  of  the  road  out  to  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains.  It  did  not  take  us  long  to  purchase  an 
outfit  in  the  shops,  for,  as  usual,  our  finances 
were  low.  We  had  the  sense  to  listen  to  a  hint 
from  some  practical  officer  who  had  been  far 
beyond  railroads,  and  buy  a  cook-stove  the  first 
thing,  and  this  proved  to  be  the  most  important 
of  our  possessions  when  we  reached  our  post, 
so  far  from  the  land  of  shops.  Not  many  hours 
after  we  left  Leavenworth  the  settlements  be 
came  farther  and  farther  apart,  and  we  began 
to  realize  that  we  were  actual  pioneers.  Kansas 
City  was  then  but  a  small  town,  seemingly  with 
a  hopeless  future,  as  the  bluffs  rose  steep  from  the 
river,  and  even  when  the  summit  was  reached, 
the  ups  and  downs  of  the  streets  were  discour 
aging.  It  seemed,  then,  as  if  it  would  never  be 
worth  while  to  use  it  as  a  site  for  a  town;  there 
would  be  a  lifetime  of  grading.  It  is  very  easy 
to  become  a  city  forefather  in  such  a  town,  for 
in  the  twenty-one  years  since  then,  it  has  grown 
into  a  city  of  over  132,000  inhabitants — but  they 
are  still  grading.  The  lots  which  we  could 
have  had  almost  for  the  asking,  sell  now  for 


28  The  Boy  General 

$1,000  a  front  foot.  Topeka,  the  capital,  showed 
no  evidence  of  its  importance,  except  the  little 
circle  of  stars  that  surrounded  it  on  our  atlas. 
There  were  but  three  towns  beyond  Fort  Riley 
then,  and  those  were  built,  if  I  may  so  express 
it,  of  canvas  and  dug-outs. 

Our  railroad  journey  came  to  an  end  about 
ten  miles  from  Fort  Riley.  The  laborers  were 
laying  track  from  that  point.  It  had  been  a 
sort  of  gala  day,  for  General  Sherman  had  been 
asked  by  railroad  officials  to  drive  the  final 
spike  of  the  division  of  the  road  then  finished. 
We  found  a  wagon  waiting  for  our  luggage, 
and  an  ambulance  to  carry  us  the  rest  of  the 
journey.  These  vehicles  are  not  uncomfortable 
when  the  long  seats  on  either  side  are  so  ar 
ranged  that  they  make  a  bed  for  the  ill  or 
wounded  by  spreading  them  out,  but  as  travel 
ling  conveyances  I  could  not  call  them  a  success. 
The  seats  are  narrow,  with  no  back  to  speak  of, 
and  covered  with  carriage-cloth,  which  can 
keep  you  occupied,  if  the  country  is  rough,  in 
regaining  the  slippery  surface  for  any  number 
of  miles  at  a  stretch.  Fort  Riley  came  in  sight 
when  we  were  pretty  well  tired  out.  It  was 
my  first  view  of  a  frontier  post,  and  came  upon 
me  as  a  great  surprise.  I  supposed,  of  course, 
it  would  be  exactly  like  Fortress  Monroe,  with 


Westward  Ho  /  29 

stone  walls,  turrets  for  the  sentinels,  and  a  deep 
moat.  I  could  scarcely  believe  that  the  build 
ings,  a  story  and  a  half  high,  placed  around  a 
parade-ground,  were  all  there  was  of  Fort  Riley. 
No  trees,  and  hardly  any  signs  of  vegetation 
except  the  buffalo-grass  that  curled  its  sweet 
blades  close  to  the  ground,  as  if  to  protect  the 
nourishment  it  held  from  the  blazing  sun.  The 
post  was  beautifully  situated  on  a  wide  plateau, 
at  the  junction  of  the  Republican  and  Smoky 
Hill  rivers.  The  Plains,  as  they  waved  away 
on  all  sides  of  us,  like  the  surface  of  a  vast 
ocean,  had  the  charm  of  great  novelty,  and  the 
absence  of  trees  was  at  first  forgotten  in  the 
fascination  of  seeing  such  an  immense  stretch 
of  country,  with  the  soft  undulations  of  green 
turf  rolling  on,  seemingly,  to  the  setting  sun. 
The  eye  was  relieved  by  the  fringe  of  cotton- 
wood  that  bordered  the  rivers  below  us. 

Though  we  came  afterward  to  know,  on 
toilsome  marches  under  the  sweltering  sun, 
that  enthusiasm  would  not  outlast  such  trials, 
still,  a  rarely  exultant  feeling  takes  possession 
of  one  in  the  gallops  over  the  Plains,  when  in 
early  spring  they  are  a  trackless  sea  of  soft 
verdure.  And  the  enthusiasm  returns  when  the 
campaign  for  the  summer  is  over,  and  riding  is 
taken  up  for  pleasure.  My  husband  was  full  of 


30  The  Boy  General 

delight  over  the  exquisite  haze  that  covered  the 
land  with  a  faint  purple  light.  But  we  had 
little  time  to  take  in  atmospheric  effects,  as 
evening  was  coming  on  and  we  were  yet  to  be 
housed,  while  servants,  horses,  dogs,  and  all  of 
us  were  hungry  after  our  long  drive.  The 
General  halted  the  wagon  outside  the  post,  and 
left  us  to  go  and  report  to  the  commanding 
officer. 

I  knew  nothing  of  the  hospitality  of  a  frontier 
post,  and  I  begged  to  remain  in  the  wagon 
until  our  quarters  were  assigned  us  in  the  gar 
rison.  Up  to  this  time  we  had  all  been  in 
splendid  spirits;  the  novelty,  the  lovely  day 
and  exhilarating  air,  and  all  the  possibilities  of 
a  future  with  a  house  of  our  own,  or,  rather, 
one  lent  to  us  by  Uncle  Sam,  seemed  to  fill  up  a 
delightful  cup  to  the  brim.  We  sat  outside  the 
post  a  long  time  growing  hungrier  and  thirstier. 
Eliza  sat  on  the  seat  with  the  driver,  and  both 
muttered  occasional  hungry  words,  but  our 
Diana  and  I  had  the  worst  of  it.  We  had 
bumped  over  the  country,  sometimes  violently 
jammed  against  the  framework  of  the  canvas 
cover,  and  most  of  the  time  sliding  off  from  the 
slippery  cushions  upon  the  insulted  dogs — for 
of  course  the  General  had  begged  a  place  for 
two  of  them.  He  had  kept  them  in  order  all 


Westward  Ho  !  3 1 

the  way  from  the  termination  of  the  railroad ; 
but  now  that  he  was  absent,  Turk  and  Byron 
renewed  hostilities,  and  in  the  narrow  space 
they  scrambled  and  snarled  and  sprang  at  each 
other.  When  the  General  came  back  he  found 
the  little  hands  of  our  curly-headed  girl 
clinched  over  the  collar  of  Byron  at  one  end 
of  the  ambulance,  while  Turk  sat  on  my  lap, 
swelling  with  rage  because  my  fingers  were 
twisted  in  the  chain  that  held  him,  as  I  sat  at 
the  door  shaking  with  terror.  It  was  quick 
wrork  to  end  our  troubles  for  the  time ;  but  the 
General  threw  us  into  a  new  panic  by  saying 
we  must  make  up  our  minds  to  be  the  guests 
of  the  commanding  officer.  Tired  and  travel- 
stained  we  were  driven  to  one  of  the  quarters 
and  made  our  entrance  among  strangers.  I 
then  realized  that  we  had  reached  a  spot  where 
the  comforts  of  life  could  not  be  had  for  love 
or  money. 

It  is  a  strange  sensation  to  arrive  at  a  place 
where  money  is  of  little  use  in  providing  shelter, 
and  here  we  were  beyond  even  the  commonest 
railroad  hotel.  Mrs.  Gibbs,  who  received  us, 
was  put  to  a  severe  test  that  night.  Already  a 
room  in  her  small  house  had  been  prepared  for 
General  Sherman,  who  had  arrived  earlier  in 
the  day,  and  now  there  were  five  of  us  bearing 


32  The  Boy  General 

down  upon  her.  I  told  her  how  I  had  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  go  into  quarters,  even  though 
there  were  no  preparations,  not  even  a  fireplace 
where  Eliza  could  have  cooked  us  food  enough 
over  the  coals  to  stay  hunger  ;  but  she  assured 
me  that  she  was  quite  accustomed  to  a  state  of 
affairs  where  there  was  nothing  to  do  but 
quarter  yourself  upon  strangers,  and  then  gave 
up  her  own  room  to  our  use. 

The  next  day  my  husband  assumed  command 
of  the  garrison,  and  our  few  effects  were  moved 
into  a  large  double  house  built  for  the  com 
manding  officer.  There  were  parlors  on  one 
side,  whose  huge  folding  doors  were  flung 
open,  and  made  our  few  articles  of  furniture 
look  lonely  and  meagre.  We  had  but  six 
wooden  chairs  to  begin  with,  and  when,  a  few 
miles  more  of  the  railroad  being  completed,  a 
party  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  excursionists 
arrived,  I  seated  six  of  them — yes,  seven,  for 
one  was  tired  enough  to  sit  on  a  trunk — and 
then  concluded  I  would  own  up  that  in  the 
larger  rooms  of  the  house,  into  which  they 
looked  significantly,  there  were  no  more  chairs 
concealed.  I  had  done  my  best,  and  tried  to 
make  up  for  not  seating  or  feeding  them,  by 
very  busy  talking.  Meanwhile  there  were  in 
cessant  inquiries  for  the  General.  It  seems 


An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians   33 

that  he  had  begun  that  little  trick  of  hiding 
from  strangers,  even  then.  He  had  seen  the 
advancing  column  of  tourists,  and  fled. 


CHAPTER   IV 

AN   EXPEDITION    AGAINST   THE    INDIANS 

ONE  of  the  hardest  trials,  in  our  first  winter 
with  the  regiment,  was  that  arising  from  the 
constantly  developing  tendency  to  hard  drink 
ing. 

While  General  Custer  steadily  fought  against 
drunkenness,  he  was  not  remorseless  or  unjust. 
I  could  cite  one  instance  after  another,  to  prove 
with  what  patience  he  strove  to  reclaim  some 
who  were  hopeless  when  they  joined  us.  His 
greatest  battles  were  not  fought  in  the  tented 
field ;  his  most  glorious  combats  were  those 
waged  in  daily,  hourly  fights  on  a  more  hotly 
contested  field  than  was  ever  known  in  com 
mon  warfare.  The  truest  heroism  is  not  that 
which  goes  out  supported  by  strong  battalions 
and  reserve  artillery. 

I  have  known  my  husband  to  stand  almost 
alone  in  his  opinion  regarding  temperance,  in  a 
garrison  containing  enough  people  to  make  a 


34  The  Boy  General 

good-sized  village.  He  was  thoroughly  unos 
tentatious  about  his  convictions,  and  rarely  said 
much  ;  but  he  stood  to  his  fixed  purpose,  purely 
from  horror  of  the  results  of  drinking.  With 
out  preaching  or  parading  his  own  strength, 
General  Custer  stood  among  the  officers  and 
men  as  firm  an  advocate  of  temperance  as  any 
evangelist  whose  life  is  devoted  to  the  cause. 

An  expedition  was  to  leave  Fort  Riley  com 
manded  by  General  Hancock,  then  at  the  head 
of  the  Department  of  the  Missouri.  He  arrived 
at  our  post  with  seven  companies  of  infantry 
and  a  battery  of  artillery.  His  letters  to  the 
Indian  agents  of  the  various  tribes  give  the  ob 
jects  of  the  march  into  the  Indian  country.  He 
wrote  : 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  state  that  I  am  at  pres 
ent  preparing  an  expedition  to  the  Plains,  which 
will  soon  be  ready  to  move.  My  object  in  do 
ing  so  at  this  time  is,  to  convince  the  Indians 
within  the  limits  of  this  Department  that  we 
are  able  to  punish  any  of  them  who  may  molest 
travellers  across  the  Plains,  or  who  may  commit 
other  hostilities  against  the  whites.  We  desire 
to  avoid,  if  possible,  any  troubles  with  the 
Indians,  and  to  treat  them  with  justice,  and 
according  to  the  requirements  of  our  treaties 
with  them  ;  and  I  wish  especially,  in  my  deal- 


An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians   35 

ings  with  them,  to  act  through  the  agents  of 
the  Indian  Department  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to 
do  so.  If  you,  as  their  agent,  can  arrange  these 
matters  satisfactorily  with  them,  we  shall  be 
pleased  to  defer  the  whole  subject  to  you.  In 
case  of  your  inability  to  do  so,  I  would  be 
pleased  to  have  you  accompany  me  when  I  visit 
the  country  of  your  tribes,  to  show  that  the 
officers  of  the  Government  are  acting  in  har 
mony.  I  shall  be  pleased  to  talk  with  any  of 
the  chiefs  whom  we  may  meet.  I  do  not  ex 
pect  to  make  war  against  any  of  the  Indians 
of  your  agency,  unless  they  commence  war 
against  us." 

In  General  Ouster's  account,  he  says  that "  the 
Indians  had  been  guilty  of  numerous  thefts  and 
murders  during  the  preceding  summer  and 
autumn.  They  had  attacked  the  stations  of 
the  overland  mail-route,  killed  the  employees, 
burned  the  stations  and  captured  the  stock. 
Citizens  had  been  murdered  in  their  homes  on 
the  frontier  of  Kansas;  and  murders  had  been 
committed  on  the  Arkansas  route.  The  prin 
cipal  perpetrators  of  these  acts  were  the  Chey- 
ennes  and  Sioux.  The  agent  of  the  former,  if 
not  a  party  to  the  murder  on  the  Arkansas, 
knew  who  the  guilty  persons  were,  yet  took  no 
steps  to  bring  the  murderers  to  punishment. 


36  The  Boy  General 

Such  a  course  would  have  interfered  with  his 
trade.  It  was  not  to  punish  for  these  sins  of 
the  past  that  the  expedition  was  set  on  foot,  but 
rather,  by  its  imposing  appearance  and  its  early 
presence  in  the  Indian  country,  to  check  or  in 
timidate  the  Indians  from  a  repetition  of  their 
late  conduct.  During  the  winter  the  leading 
chiefs  and  warriors  had  threatened  that,  as  soon 
as  the  grass  was  up,  the  tribes  would  combine 
in  a  united  outbreak  along  the  entire  frontier." 
There  had  been  little  opportunity  to  put  the 
expedition  out  of  our  minds  for  some  time  pre 
vious  to  its  departure.  The  sound  from  the 
blacksmith's  shop,  of  the  shoeing  of  horses,  the 
drilling  on  the  level  ground  outside  of  the  post, 
and  the  loading  of  wagons  about  the  quarter 
master  and  commissary  storehouses,  went  on 
all  day  long.  At  that  time  the  sabre  was  more 
in  use  than  it  was  later,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  could  never  again  shut  my  ears  to  the 
sound  of  the  grindstone,  when  I  found  that  the 
sabres  were  being  sharpened.  The  troopers, 
when  mounted,  were  curiosities,  and  a  decided 
disappointment  to  me.  The  horse,  when  pre 
pared  for  the  march,  barely  showed  head  and 
tail.  My  ideas  of  the  dashing  trooper  going 
out  to  war,  clad  in  gay  uniform  and  curbing 
a  curveting  steed,  faded  before  the  reality. 


An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians    37 

Though  the  wrapping  together  of  the  blanket, 
overcoat,  and  shelter-tent  is  made  a  study  of 
the  tactics,  it  could  not  be  reduced  to  anything 
but  a  good-sized  roll  at  the  back  of  the  saddle. 
The  carbine  rattled  on  one  side  of  the  soldier, 
slung  from  the  broad  strap  over  his  shoulder, 
while  a  frying-pan,  a  tin  cup,  a  canteen,  and  a 
haversack  of  hardtack  clattered  and  knocked 
about  on  his  other  side.  There  were  possibly 
a  hundred  rounds  of  ammunition  in  his  car 
tridge-belt,  which  took  away  all  the  symmetry 
that  his  waist  might  otherwise  have  had.  If 
the  company  commander  was  not  too  strict,  a 
short  butcher-knife,  thrust  into  a  home-made 
leather  case,  kept  company  with  the  pistol.  It 
was  not  a  murderous  weapon,  but  was  used  to 
cut  up  game  or  slice  off  the  bacon,  which,  sput 
tering  in  the  skillet  at  evening  camp-fire,  was 
the  main  feature  of  the  soldier's  supper.  The 
tin  utensils,  the  carbine,  and  the  sabre  kept  up 
a  continual  din,  as  the  horses  seemingly  crept 
over  the  trail  at  the  rate  of  three  to  four  miles 
an  hour.  In  addition  to  the  cumbersome  load, 
there  were  sometimes  lariats  and  iron  pins 
slung  on  one  side  of  the  saddle,  to  tether  the 
animals  when  they  grazed  at  night.  There  was 
nothing  picturesque  about  this  lumbering  cav 
alryman,  and  our  men  did  not  then  sit  their 


38  The  Boy  General. 

horses  with  the  serenity  that  they  eventually 
attained.  If  the  beast  shied  or  kicked — for  the 
poor  thing  was  itself  learning  to  do  soldiering, 
and  occasionally  flung  out  his  heels — it  was  a 
question  whether  the  newly  made  Mars  would 
land  on  the  crupper  or  hang  helplessly  among 
the  domestic  utensils  suspended  to  his  saddle. 
How  sorry  I  was  for  them,  they  were  so  bruised 
and  lamed  by  their  first  lessons  in  horsemanship. 
Every  one  laughed  at  every  one  else,  and  this 
made  it  seem  doubly  trying  to  me.  I  remem 
bered  my  own  first  lessons  among  fearless  cav 
alrymen — a  trembling  figure,  about  as  uncer 
tain  in  the  saddle  as  if  it  were  a  wave  of  the 
sea,  the  hands  cold  and  nerveless,  and,  I  regret 
to  add,  the  tears  streaming  down  my  cheeks ! 
These  recollections  made  me  writhe  when  I 
saw  a  soldier  describing  an  arc  in  the  air,  and 
his  self-freed  horse  galloping  off  to  the  music 
of  tin  and  steel  in  concert.  Just  in  proportion 
as  I  had  suffered  for  their  misfortunes,  did  I 
enjoy  the  men  when,  after  the  campaign,  they 
returned,  perfect  horsemen  and  with  such  phy 
siques  as  might  serve  for  a  sculptor's  model. 

At  the  time  the  expedition  formed  at  Fort 
Riley,  I  had  little  realization  what  a  serious  af 
fair  an  Indian  campaign  was.  We  had  heard 
of  the  outrages  committed  on  the  settlers,  the 


An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians   39 

attacking  of  the  overland  supply-trains,  and  the 
burning-  of  the  stage-stations ;  but  the  rumors 
seemed  to  come  from  so  far  away  that  the  re 
ality  was  never  brought  home  to  me  until  I 
saw  for  myself  what  horror  attends  Indian  dep 
redations. 

As  the  days  drew  nearer  for  the  expedition 
to  set  out,  my  husband  tried  to  keep  my  spirits 
up  by  reminding  me  that  the  council  to  be  held 
with  the  chiefs  of  the  warlike  tribes,  when  they 
reached  that  part  of  the  country  infested  with 
the  marauding  Indians,  was  something  he 
hoped  might  result  in  our  speedy  reunion.  He 
endeavored  to  induce  me  to  think,  as  he  did, 
that  the  Indians  would  be  so  impressed  with 
the  magnitude  of  the  expedition,  that  after  the 
council,  they  would  accept  terms  and  abandon 
the  war-path.  Eight  companies  of  our  own 
regiment  were  going  out,  and  these,  with  in 
fantry  and  artillery,  made  a  force  of  fourteen 
hundred  men.  It  was  really  a  large  expedi 
tion,  for  the  Plains  ;  but  the  recollections  of  the 
thousands  of  men  in  the  Third  Cavalry  Division, 
which  was  the  General's  command  during  the 
war,  made  the  expedition  seem  too  small,  even 
for  safety. 

No  one  can  enumerate  the  terrors  that  filled 
the  hearts  of  women  on  the  border  in  those  des- 


4O  The  Boy   General 

perate  days.  The  band  played  its  usual  de 
parting  tune,  "  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me," 
but  the  expedition  did  not  go  out  with  song  and 
shout,  for  it  left  loving,  weeping  women  behind. 

There  was  silence  as  the  column  left  the  gar 
rison.  Alas!  the  closed  houses  they  left  were 
as  still  as  if  death  had  set  its  seal  upon  the 
door. 

We  had  not  been  long  alone  when  a  great 
danger  threatened  us.  The  level  plateau  about 
our  post,  and  the  valley  along  the  river  near 
us,  were  covered  with  dry  prairie  grass,  which 
grows  thick  and  is  matted  down  into  close 
clumps.  It  was  discovered  one  day,  that  a  nar 
row  thread  of  fire  was  creeping  on  in  our  direc 
tion,  scorching  these  tufts  into  shrivelled  brown 
patches.  People  generally  regard  descriptions 
of  prairie-fires  as  exaggerated,  and  I  have  seen 
a  mild  type  of  fire  and  know  that  a  horse 
man  rides  through  such  quiet  conflagrations  in 
safety.  The  trains  on  some  of  our  Western 
roads  pass  harmless  through  belts  of  country 
when  the  flames  are  about  them  ;  there  is  no 
impending  peril  because  the  winds  are  moder 
ate.  When  a  tiny  flame  is  discovered  in  Kan 
sas,  where  the  wind  blows  a  hurricane  so  much 
of  the  time,  there  is  not  a  moment  to  lose.  Al 
though  we  saw  what  was  hardly  more  than  a 


An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians   41 

suspicion  of  smoke,  and  the  slender,  sinuous, 
red  tongue  along  the  ground,  we  knew  that  our 
lives  were  in  jeopardy.  Most  of  us  were  un 
acquainted  with  those  precautions  which  the 
experienced  Plainsman  takes,  and  we  had  no 
ranchmen  near  us  to  set  us  the  example  of  cau 
tion.  We  should  have  had  furrows  ploughed 
around  the  entire  post  in  double  lines,  a  certain 
distance  apart,  to  check  the  approach  of  fire. 
There  was  no  time  to  fight  the  foe  with  a  like 
weapon,  by  burning  over  a  portion  of  the  grass 
between  the  advancing  blaze  and  our  post. 
The  smoke  rose  higher  and  higher  beyond  us, 
and  curling,  creeping  fire  began  to  ascend  into 
waves  of  flame  with  alarming  rapidity,  and  in 
an  incredibly  short  time  we  were  overshadowed 
with  a  dark  pall  of  smoke. 

The  Plains  were  then  new  to  us.  It  is  impos 
sible  to  appreciate  their  vastness  at  first.  The 
very  idea  was  hard  to  realize,  that  from  where 
we  lived  we  looked  on  an  uninterrupted  hor 
izon.  It  fills  the  soul  with  wonder  and  awe  to 
look  upon  the  vastness  of  that  sea  of  land  for 
the  first  time.  As  the  sky  became  lurid,  and 
the  blaze  swept  on  toward  us,  surging  to  and 
fro  in  waving  lines  as  it  approached  nearer  and 
nearer,  it  seemed  that  the  end  of  the  world  had 
really  come.  The  whole  earth  appeared  to  be 


42  The  Boy   General 

on  fire.  The  sky  was  a  sombre  canopy  above 
us,  on  which  flashes  of  brilliant  light  suddenly 
appeared  as  the  flames  rose.  There  were  no 
screams  nor  cries,  simply  silent  terror  and  shiv- 
erings  of  horror,  as  we  women  huddled  to 
gether  to  watch  the  remorseless  fiend  advanc 
ing.  The  river  was  half  a  mile  away,  and  our 
feet  could  not  fly  fast  enough  to  reach  the  water 
before  the  enemy  would  be  upon  us.  There 
was  no  such  a  thing  as  a  fire-engine. 

In  the  midst  of  this  appalling  scene  we  were 
startled  anew  by  a  roar  and  shout  from  the  sol 
diers'  barracks.  Some  one  had,  at  last,  pres 
ence  of  mind  to  marshal  the  men  into  line,  and 
assuming  a  commanding  tone  give  imperative 
orders.  Every  one — citizen  employees,  soldiers, 
and  officers  —  seized  gunny-sacks,  blankets, 
poles,  anything  available  that  came  in  their 
way,  and  raced  wildly  beyond  the  post  into  the 
midst  of  the  blazing  grass.  Forming  a  line, 
they  beat  and  lashed  the  flames  with  the  blankets, 
so  twisted  as  to  deal  powerful  blows.  It  was  a 
frenzied  fight.  The  soldiers  yelled  and  leaped 
frantically  upon  beds  of  blazing  grass,  condens 
ing  a  lifetime  of  riotous  energy  into  these  per 
ilous  moments.  We  women  were  breathless; 
our  hearts  were  filled  with  terror  for  the  brave 
men  who  were  working  for  our  deliverance. 


An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians   43 

They  were  men  to  whom  we  had  never  spoken, 
nor  were  we  likely  ever  to  speak  to  them,  so 
separated  are  the  soldiers  from  an  officer's 
household.  Sometimes  we  saw  their  eyes  fol 
lowing  us  respectfully,  as  we  rode  about  the 
garrison,  seeming  to  have  in  them  an  air  of  pos 
session,  as  if  saying,  "  That's  our  Captain's  or 
our  Colonel's  wife."  Now,  they  were  showing 
their  loyalty. 

No  sooner  had  the  flames  been  stamped  out 
of  one  portion  of  the  plain,  than  the  whole  body 
of  men  were  obliged  to  rush  off  in  another  di 
rection  and  begin  the  thrashing  and  tramping 
anew.  But  the  wind,  that  had  been  the  cause 
of  our  danger,  saved  us  at  last.  Suddenly  veer 
ing,  it  swept  the  long  tongues  of  flame  over 
the  bluffs  beyond  us,  where  the  lonely  coyote 
and  its  mate  were  driven  into  their  lair.  With 
faces  begrimed  and  blistered,  their  clothes  black 
with  soot  and  smoke,  their  hands  burnt  and 
numb  from  violent  effort,  the  soldiers  dragged 
their  exhausted  bodies  back  to  garrison,  and 
dropped  down  anywhere  to  rest. 

The  first  letters,  sent  back  from  the  expedi 
tion  by  scouts,  made  red-letter  days  for  us.  The 
official  envelope,  stained  with  rain  and  mud, 
bursting  open  with  the  many  pages  crowded 
in,  sometimes  even  tied  with  a  string  by  some 


44  The  Boy  General 

messenger  through  whose  hands  the  parcel 
passed,  told  stories  of  the  vicissitudes  of  the 
missive  in  the  difficult  journey  to  our  post. 
These  letters  gave  accounts  of  the  march  to 
Fort  Larned,  where  a  great  camp  was  estab 
lished,  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  chiefs  with 
whom  the  council  was  to  be  held.  While  the 
runners  were  absent  on  their  messages  to  the 
tribes,  some  effort  was  made  to  protect  the 
troops  against  the  still  sharp  winds  of  early 
spring.  The  halt  and  partly  permanent  camp 
was  most  fortunate  ;  for  had  the  troops  been 
on  the  march,  a  terrible  snow-storm  that  en 
sued  would  have  wrought  havoc.  The  animals 
were  given  an  extra  ration  of  oats,  while  the 
guards  were  obliged  to  whip  the  horses  on  the 
picket-line,  to  keep  them  in  motion  and  pre 
vent  them  from  freezing. 

In  my  husband's  letters  there  was  a  descrip 
tion  of  his  lending  his  dog  to  keep  a  friend 
warm.  The  officer  came  into  his  tent  declar 
ing  that  no  amount  of  bedding  had  any  effect  in 
keeping  out  the  cold,  and  he  had  come  to  bor 
row  a  dog,  to  see  if  he  could  have  one  night's 
rest.  Our  old  hound  was  offered,  because  he 
could  cover  such  a  surface,  for  he  was  a  big 
brute,  and  when  he  once  located  himself  he 
rarely  moved  until  morning.  My  husband  for- 


An  Expedition  Against  the  Indians    45 

got,  in  lending  Rover,  to  mention  a  habit  he 
had  of  sleeping  audibly,  besides  a  little  fashion 
of  twitching  his  legs  and  thumping  his  cumbrous 
tail.  He  was  taken  into  the  neighbor's  tent, 
and  induced  to  settle  for  the  night,  after  the 
General's  coaxing  and  pretence  of  going  to 
sleep  beside  him.  Later,  when  he  went  back 
to  see  how  Rover  worked  as  a  furnace,  he  found 
the  officer  sound  asleep  on  his  back,  emitting 
such  nasal  notes  as  only  a  stout  man  is  equal 
to,  while  Rover  lay  sprawled  over  the  broad 
chest  of  his  host,  where  he  had  crept  after  he 
was  asleep,  snoring  with  an  occasional  inter, 
lude  of  a  long-drawn  snort,  introduced  in  a 
manner  peculiar  to  fox-hounds.  The  next  morn 
ing  my  husband  was  not  in  the  least  surprised 
to  receive  a  call  from  the  officer,  who  presented 
a  request  to  exchange  dogs.  He  said  that  he 
did  not  expect  to  have  a  bedfellow  that  would 
climb  up  over  his  lungs  and  crush  all  the  breath 
out  of  his  body. 

All  these  camp  incidents  brightened  up  the 
long  letters,  and  kept  me  from  realizing,  as  I 
read,  what  were  the  realities  of  that  dreadful 
march. 

Succeeding  letters  from  my  husband  gave  an 
account  of  his  first  experience  with  the  perfidy 
of  the  Indians,  The  council  had  been  held,  and 


46  The  Boy  General 

it  was  hoped  that  effectual  steps  were  taken  to 
establish  peace.  But,  as  is  afterward  related, 
the  chiefs  gave  them  the  slip  and  deserted  the 
village.  The  General  pressed  the  retreating 
Indians  so  closely,  the  very  night  of  their  de 
parture,  that  they  were  obliged  to  divide  into 
smaller  detachments,  and  even  the  experienced 
Plainsmen  could  no  longer  trace  a  trail. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  NEGRO   AS  A    SOLDIER 

MEANWHILE,  as  our  officers  were  experienc 
ing  all  sorts  of  new  phases  in  life  on  their  first 
march  over  the  Plains,  our  vicissitudes  were 
increasing  at  the  peaceful  Fort  Riley.  The 
cavalry  were  replaced  by  negro  infantry.  I 
had  never  seen  negroes  as  soldiers,  and  these 
raw  recruits  had  come  from  plantations,  where 
I  had  known  enough  of  their  life,  while  in 
Texas  and  Louisiana,  to  realize  what  an  irre 
sponsible,  child's  existence  it  was.  Further,  it 
was  very  soon  discovered  that  the  officer  who 
commanded  them  was  for  the  first  time  accus 
toming  himself  to  colored  troops,  and  did  not 
know  how  to  keep  in  check  the  undisciplined 


The  Negro  as  a  Soldier  47 

creatures.  He  was  a  quiet  man,  of  scholarly 
tastes,  and  evidently  entertained  the  belief  that 
moral  suasion  would  effect  any  purpose.  The 
negroes,  discovering  what  they  could  do  under 
so  mild  a  commander,  grew  each  day  more 
lawless.  They  used  the  parade-ground  for  a 
play -ground,  turning  hand -springs  all  over 
the  sprouting  grass,  and  vaulting  in  leap-frog 
over  the  bent  back  of  a  comrade.  When  one 
patted  "  juba  "  and  a  group  danced,  we  seemed 
transformed  into  a  minstrel  show.  There  was 
not  a  trace  of  the  well-conducted  post  of  a 
short  time  before. 

All  this  frivolity  was  but  the  prelude  to  seri 
ous  trouble.  The  joy  with  which  the  negroes 
came  into  possession  of  a  gun  for  the  first  time 
in  their  lives  would  have  been  ludicrous  had 
it  not  been  extremely  dangerous.  This  was 
exhibited  in  their  attempts  to  make  themselves 
marksmen  in  a  single  day.  They  had  no  sort 
of  idea  how  to  care  for  their  health.  The  ra 
tion  of  a  soldier  is  so  large  that  a  man  who 
can  eat  it  all  in  a  day  is  renowned  as  a  glutton. 
I  think  but  few  instances  ever  occur  where  the 
entire  ration  is  consumed  by  one  man.  It  is 
not  expected,  and,  fortunately,  with  all  the 
economy  of  the  Government,  the  supply  has 
never  been  cut  down ;  but  the  surplus  is  sold 


48  The  Boy   General 

and  a  company  fund  established.  By  this 
means  the  variety  is  increased  by  buying 
vegetables,  if  it  happen  to  be  a  land  where 
they  can  be  obtained.  The  negroes,  for  the 
first  time  in  possession  of  all  the  coffee,  pork, 
sugar,  and  hardtack  they  wanted,  ate  inordi 
nately.  There  was  no  one  to  compel  them 
to  cleanliness.  Pestilence  broke  out  among 
them.  Smallpox,  black  measles,  and  other 
contagious  diseases  raged,  while  the  soldier's 
enemy,  scurvy,  took  possession. 

Added  to  this  there  was  much  indiscriminate 
firing.  One  evening  a  few  women  were  walk 
ing  outside  the  garrison.  Our  limits  were  not 
so  circumscribed,  at  that  time,  as  they  were 
in  almost  all  the  places  where  I  was  stationed 
afterward.  A  sentinel  always  walked  a  beat 
in  front  of  a  small  arsenal  outside  of  the  post, 
and,  overcome  with  the  grandeur  of  carrying 
a  gun  and  wearing  a  uniform,  he  sought  to 
impress  his  soldierly  qualities  on  any  one  ap 
proaching  by  a  stentorian  "  Who  comes  thar?" 
It  was  entirely  unnecessary,  as  it  was  light 
enough  to  see  the  fluttering  skirts  of  women, 
for  the  winds  kept  our  drapery  in  constant 
motion.  Almost  instantly  after  his  challenge, 
the  flash  of  his  gun  and  the  whizz  of  a  bullet 
past  us  made  us  aware  that  our  lives  were 


The  Negro  as  a  Soldier  49 

spared  only  because  of  his  inaccurate  aim.  Of 
course  that  ended  our  evening  walks. 

There  was  one  person  who  profited  by  the 
presence  of  the  negro  troops.  Our  Eliza  was 
a  great  belle.  The  colored  beaux  waited  on 
her  assiduously,  and  I  suspect  they  dined  daily 
in  our  kitchen,  as  long  as  their  brief  season  of 
favor  lasted.  They  even  sought  to  curry  favor 
with  Eliza  by  gifts  to  me — snaring  quail,  im 
prisoning  them  in  cages  made  of  cracker-boxes, 
or  wild-flowers  as  they  appeared  in  the  dells. 
For  all  these  gifts  I  was  duly  grateful,  but  I 
was  much  afraid  of  a  negro  soldier,  never 
theless. 

At  last  our  perplexities  and  frights  reached 
a  climax.  One  night  we  heard  the  measured 
tramp  of  feet  over  the  road  in  front  of  our 
quarters,  and  they  halted  almost  opposite  our 
windows,  where  we  could  hear  the  voices.  No 
loud  "  Halt,  who  comes  there !  "  rang  out  on 
the  air,  for  the  sentinel  was  enjoined  to  si 
lence.  Being  frightened,  I  called  to  Eliza. 
She  ran  upstairs  in  response  to  my  cry,  and 
we  watched  with  terror  what  went  on.  It 
soon  was  discovered  to  be  a  mutiny.  The 
men  growled  and  swore,  and  we  could  see  by 
their  threatening  movements  that  they  were 
in  a  state  of  exasperation.  They  demanded 


5<D  The  Boy  General 

the  commanding  officer,  and  as  he  did  not  ap 
pear,  they  clenched  their  fists,  and  looked  at 
the  house  as  if  they  would  tear  it  down,  or  at 
least  break  in  the  doors.  It  seemed  a  desper 
ate  situation  to  us. 

At  last  Eliza  realized  how  terrified  I  was 
and  gave  an  explanation  of  this  alarming  out 
break.  The  men  had  for  some  time  been  de 
manding  the  entire  ration,  and  were  especially 
clamorous  for  all  the  sugar  that  was  issued. 
Very  naturally,  the  Captain  had  withheld  the 
supernumerary  supplies,  in  order  to  make 
company  savings  for  the  purpose  of  buying 
vegetables.  A  mutiny  over  sugar  may  seem 
a  small  affair,  but  it  assumes  threatening  pro 
portions  when  a  mob  of  menacing,  furious  men 
tramp  up  and  down  in  front  of  one's  house, 
and  there  is  no  safe  place  of  refuge,  nor  any 
one  to  whom  appeal  can  be  made.  Eliza  kept 
up  a  continuous  comforting  and  reassuring, 
but  when  I  reminded  her  that  our  door  had 
no  locks,  or,  rather,  no  keys,  for  it  was  not 
the  custom  to  lock  army  quarters,  she  said, 
"  La,  Miss  Libbie,  they  won't  tech  you ;  you 
dun  wrote  too  many  letters  for  'em,  and  they'se 
got  too  many  good  vittels  in  your  kitchen  ever 
to  'sturb  you."  The  infuriated  men  had  to 
quiet  down,  for  no  response  came  from  the 


The  Negro  as  a  Soldier  51 

commanding  officer.  They  found  out,  I  sup 
pose,  from  the  investigations  of  one  acting  as 
spy,  and  going  to  the  rear  of  the  quarters,  that 
he  had  disappeared.  They  straggled  off  until 
their  growling  and  muttering  were  lost  in  the 
barracks,  where  they  went  to  bed.  No  steps 
were  taken  to  punish  them,  and  at  any  imagi 
nary  wrong,  they  might  feel,  from  the  success 
of  this  first  attempt  at  insurrection,  that  it  was 
safe  to  repeat  the  experiment.  We  women 
had  little  expectation  but  that  the  summer 
would  be  one  of  open  rebellion  against  mili 
tary  rule.  The  commanding  officer,  though 
very  retiring,  was  so  courteous  to  all  the 
women  left  in  the  garrison,  that  it  was  difficult 
to  be  angry  with  him  for  his  failure  to  control 
the  troops. 

Meanwhile  my  letters,  on  which  I  wrote 
every  day,  made  mention  of  our  frights  and 
uncertainties.  Each  mail  carried  out  letters 
from  the  women  to  the  expedition,  narrating 
their  fears.  We  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
that  there  was  a  remedy.  It  took  a  long  time 
for  our  letters  to  reach  the  expedition,  and  a 
correspondingly  long  time  for  replies  ;  but  the 
descriptions  of  the  night  of  mutiny  brought 
the  officers  together  in  council,  and  the  best 
disciplinarian  of  our  regiment  was  immediate- 


52  The  Boy   General 

ly  despatched  to  our  relief.  I  knew  but  little 
of  General  Gibbs  at  that  time  ;  my  husband 
had  served  with  him  during  the  war,  and 
valued  his  soldierly  ability  and  sincere  friend 
ship.  He  had  been  terribly  wounded  in  the 
Indian  wars  before  the  Civil  War,  and  was 
really  unfit  for  hard  service,  but  too  soldierly 
to  be  willing-  to  remain  at  the  rear.  In  a  week 
after  his  arrival  at  our  post  there  was  a  marked 
difference  in  the  state  of  affairs.  Out  of  the 
seemingly  hopeless  material,  General  Gibbs 
made  soldiers  who  were  used  as  guards  over 
Government  property  through  the  worst  of 
the  Indian  country,  and  whose  courage  was 
put  to  the  test  by  frequent  attacks,  where  they 
had  to  defend  themselves  as  well  as  the  sup 
plies. 

Life  in  Kansas  is  full  of  surprises,  but  there 
was  one  that  we  would  gladly  have  been 
spared.  One  quiet  day  I  heard  a  great  rum 
bling  in  the  direction  of  the  plateau  where  we 
had  ridden  so  much,  as  if  many  prairie-schoon 
ers,  heavily  laden,  were  being  spirited  away 
by  the  stampede  of  mules.  Next,  our  house 
began  to  rock,  the  bell  to  ring,  and  the  pict 
ures  to  vibrate  on  the  wall.  The  mystery 
was  solved  when  we  ran  to  the  gallery,  and 
found  the  garrison  rushing  out  of  barracks 


The  Home  of  the  Biiffalo  53 

and  quarters ;  women  and  children  ran  to  the 
parade-ground,  all  hatless,  some  half-dressed. 
Everybody  stared  at  everyone  else,  turned 
pale,  and  gasped  with  fright.  It  was  an  earth 
quake,  sufficiently  serious  to  shake  our  stone 
quarters  and  overturn  the  lighter  articles, 
while  farther  down  the  gully  the  great  stove 
at  the  sutler's  store  was  tumbled  over  and  the 
side  of  the  building  broken  in  by  the  shock. 
There  was  a  deep  fissure  in  the  side  of  the 
bank,  and  the  waters  of  the  Big  Blue  were  so 
agitated  that  the  bed  of  the  river  twelve  feet 
deep  was  plainly  visible. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    HOME    OF   THE   BUFFALO 

THE  buffaloes  were  in  such  enormous  herds 
all  about  us  in  Kansas,  that  it  seemed  as  if  noth 
ing  could  diminish  their  numbers.  General 
Sherman  told  me  that  from  the  time  we  were 
there  until  the  date  of  their  almost  total  an 
nihilation,  9,000,000,  had  been  killed.  After 
the  Pacific  railroads  were  completed  the  Ind 
ian  was  partially  subdued,  and  civilization 
spread  along  the  routes  of  travel ;  the  frontiers- 


54  The  Boy  General 

men  were  more  daring,  and  buffalo-hunting  be 
came  a  slaughter.  The  skin-hunters  carried  on 
a  great  traffic.  Wherever  the  steamers  stopped 
to  wood  along  the  Missouri  the  river  was  lined 
with  heaps  of  hides,  tied  in  bales  ready  for 
shipment.  At  the  railroad  stations  in  Kansas 
the  same  thing  was  true.  Seven  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  hides  were  shipped  from  one 
station  about  1874.  The  skin-hunters  used  this 
plan  :  One  of  the  number  still-hunted,  singling 
out  his  animal,  and  firing  at  long  range  so  that 
the  sound  of  the  bullet  did  not  disturb  the 
herd.  The  smell  of  the  blood  drew  perhaps 
twenty  about  the  slain  animal,  and  the  hunter 
fired  at  them  from  behind  the  carcass,  where  he 
had  hidden  himself  on  coming  up  to  his  dead 
game.  The  rest  of  the  party  skinned  the  car 
casses,  and  then  proceeded  to  follow  up  the 
herd.  One  man,  an  expert,  has  thus  shot  over 
a  hundred  in  a  day.  The  bones  were  gathered 
and  shipped  East  also.  In  this  systematic  kill 
ing  it  is  no  wonder  that  now  only  a  small  herd 
in  the  Black  Hills  is  reported  to  be  in  existence. 
While  we  were  in  Kansas  the  Indians  were  on 
the  war-path,  and  men  were  not  sufficiently 
daring  in  the  pursuit  of  pelf  to  make  hunting  a 
business.  The  fearful  destruction  of  buffaloes 
is  a  cause  of  national  regret. 


The  Home  of  the  Buffalo  55 

All  the  wide  plains  about  us  for  thousands  of 
miles  were  stamped  with  the  presence  of  the 
American  bison.  Innumerable  proofs  that  they 
had  long  been  monarchs  in  that  great  desert 
were  encountered  on  our  long  marches,  no 
matter  in  what  direction  we  moved.  No  other 
animal  impressed  itself  so  on  the  land  as  to 
have  its  trail  become  a  feature  of  the  vast 
country.  The  most  noticeable  of  these  evi 
dences  of  their  presence  were  the  interminable 
trails  to  the  streams.  Many  a  desert  manner, 
guiding  his  canvas-covered  wagon  across  the 
trackless  Western  sea  of  prairie,  has  saved  his 
life  by  following  these  unfailing  guides.  The 
ruts  were  sometimes  in  four  parallel  lines,  and 
so  deeply  cut  by  the  huge  monsters  that  pa 
tiently  plodded  through  them,  that  we  often 
had  to  check  our  horses  to  cross  safely.  The 
narrowness  of  these  paths — for  they  were  not 
much  wider  than  the  impression  of  a  cart 
wheel — was  a  surprise,  until  I  saw  how  closely, 
how  evenly,  each  hoof  seemed  to  replace  the 
other  as  the  steady  march  went  on.  We 
learned  very  soon  that  we  need  not  count  on 
finding  a  stream  near,  by  following  the  trail. 
It  might  be  a  journey  of  hours — for  with  a 
buffalo  what  was  time  ?  He  lived  but  to  eat 
and  drink.  There  was  never  the  wild,  exultant 


56  The  Boy  General 

run  of  deer  or  antelope,  which  flew  over  the 
Plains  apparently  from  joy  and  excess  of  life. 
The  solemn,  practical  existence  of  the  lumber, 
ing  buffalo  seemed  to  have  begun  before  calf- 
dom  was  fairly  over. 

It  is  true  there  was  much  fighting  for  lead 
ership,  and  the  heartless  conduct  toward  the 
old  bachelors  of  the  herd  is  well  known.  When 
they  showed  signs  of  age,  the  stronger,  younger 
bulls  drove  them  out  into  a  dreary  existence, 
which  was  soon  ended  by  the  wolves  that  pur 
sued  the  solitary  tramps  until  exhaustion  gave 
them  up  as  prey.  Occasionally  several  of  the 
outcasts  from  the  different  herds  met,  and  con- 
eluded  to  join  forces  and  defy  their  joint  ene 
my,  the  wolves.  With  us,  unaccustomed  that 
summer  to  the  habits  of  the  buffalo,  the  sight 
of  a  single  animal  browsing  contentedly,  au 
gured  an  approaching  herd  ;  and  great  was  our 
disappointment,  when  he  was  allowed  to  gallop 
off  at  sight  of  us  and  escape,  to  find  that  he 
was  not  the  forerunner  of  a  herd,  but  only  an 
outcast. 

Many  combats  occurred  among  the  bulls 
because  two  selected  the  same  cow  for  a  wife, 
and  the  painter  who  could  have  portrayed 
these  monsters  while  they  were  raging  with 
the  fierceness  of  rivalry  would  have  made  his 


The  Home  of  the  Buffalo  57 

mark.  The  heads  bent  forward  to  the  ground 
in  attempts  to  gore  each  other,  the  burning  eye 
balls,  the  desperate  plunges  which  they  made, 
apparently  oblivious  of  their  great  weight,  the 
turf  torn  with  their  maddened  hoofs,  the  air 
thick  with  dust  and  bits  of  loosened  sod,  the 
temporary  retreats  of  the  contestants  only  to 
enable  them  to  rush  at  one  another  with  re 
newed  force,  afforded  the  most  magnificent 
example  of  jealous  fury.  Meanwhile,  the 
cow  over  which  this  war  was  waged,  quietly 
browsed  near  by.  When  domestic  life  began, 
the  winner  of  the  hard-fought  battle  became  a 
good  defender  of  his  family.  In  the  great  herds 
the  cows  were  always  in  the  centre,  and  a  cor 
don  of  bulls  surrounded  them  and  their  young, 
while  outside  them  all  were  the  pickets,  which 
kept  watch,  and  whose  warnings  were  heeded 
at  once  if  danger  threatened. 

The  circles,  perhaps  fifteen  feet  in  circum 
ference,  that  I  saw  were  one  of  the  mysteries 
of  that  strange  land.  When  the  officers  told 
me  that  the  rut  was  made  by  the  buffalo  moth 
er's  walking  round  and  round  to  protect  her 
newly  born  and  sleeping  calf  from  the  wolves 
at  night,  I  listened,  only  to  smile  incredulously. 
I  had  been  so  often  "  guyed "  with  ridiculous 
stories,  that  I  did  not  believe  the  tale.  In  time, 


58  The  Boy   General 

however,  I  found  that  it  was  true,  and  I  never 
came  across  these  pathetic  circles  without  a 
sentiment  of  deepest  sympathy  for  the  anxious 
mother  whose  vigilance  kept  up  the  ceaseless 
tramp  during  the  long  night. 

At  first  the  bleaching  bones  of  thousands  of 
buffaloes  were  rather  a  melancholy  sight,  but 
I  soon  became  as  much  accustomed  to  the 
ghastly  sockets  of  an  upturned  skull  as  the 
field-mouse  which  ran  in  and  out  with  food  for 
her  nest  of  little  ones  inside.  The  bones  were 
often  very  old,  for  the  bone  collectors  did  not 
dare  carry  on  their  traffic  at  that  dangerous 
time.  The  buffaloes  were  a  singularly  pitiful 
prey.  They  fought  terribly  when  brought  to 
bay,  but  when  simply  startled  by  the  enemy, 
they  ambled  off  as  if  saying,  "  This  place  is 
surely  big  enough  for  all  of  us;  we'll  get  out  of 
the  way."  Then  when  they  were  pursued, 
and  the  herd  broke  into  a  stampede,  my  heart 
was  wrung  with  sympathy,  especially  if  I 
chanced  to  spy  calves.  I  hardly  need  say 
how  careful  the  officers  were  not  to  shoot  the 
cows.  The  reverence  for  motherhood  is  an 
instinct  that  is  seldom  absent  from  educated 
men.  I  know  many  instances  in  proof  of 
the  poet's  words,  "  the  bravest  are  the  ten- 
derest."  Our  officers  taught  the  coarsest 


The  Home  of  the  Buffalo  59 

soldier,  in  time,  to  regard  maternity  as  some 
thing  sacred. 

It  was  only  by  the  merest  chance  that  I  heard 
something  of  the  gentleness  of  one  of  our  offi 
cers,  whose  brave  heart  ceased  to  beat  on  the 
battle-field  of  the  Little  Big  Horn.  In  march 
ing  on  a  scouting  expedition  one  day  he  went 
in  advance  a  short  distance  with  his  sergeant, 
and  when  his  ten  men  caught  up  with  him  he 
found  that  they  had  shot  the  mothers  of  some 
young  antelopes.  Captain  Yates  indignantly 
ordered  the  men  to  return  to  the  young,  and 
each  take  a  baby  antelope  in  his  arms  and  care 
for  it  until  they  reached  the  post.  For  two 
days  the 'men  marched  on,  bearing  the  tender 
little  things,  cushioning  them  as  best  they 
could  in  their  folded  blouses.  One  man  had 
twins  to  look  out  for,  and  as  a  baby  antelope  is 
all  legs  and  head,  this  squirming  collection  of 
tiny  hoofs  and  legs  stuck  out  from  all  sides  as 
the  soldier  guided  his  horse  as  best  he  could 
with  one  hand,  the  arm  of  which  encircled  the 
bleating  little  orphans. 

I  also  heard,  only  a  year  or  so  since,  of  an 
incident  that  happened   perhaps  fifteen   years 
ago.   A  representative  of  the  press  was  sent  for  \ 
scientific  purposes  with  our  regiment  during 
the  summer  campaign.     He  told  me  that  Gen- 


60  The  Boy  General 

eral  Custer,  riding  at  the  head  of  the  column, 
seeing  the  nest  of  a  meadow-lark,  with  bird- 
lings  in  it,  in  the  grass,  guided  his  horse  around 
it,  and  resumed  the  straight  course  again  with 
out  saying  a  word  or  giving  a  direction.  The 
whole  command  of  many  hundred  cavalrymen 
made  the  same  detour,  each  detachment  com 
ing  up  to  the  place  where  the  preceding  horse 
men  had  turned  out,  and  looking  down  into  the 
nest  to  find  the  reason  for  the  unusual  depart 
ure  from  the  straight  line  of  march. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    FIRST    FIGHT   OF   THE   SEVENTH    CAVALRY 

THE  first  fight  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  at 
Fort  Wallace  on  the  road  to  Denver.  In  June, 
1867,  a  band  of  three  hundred  Cheyennes,  un 
der  Roman  Nose,  attacked  the  stage-station 
near  that  fort,  and  ran  off  the  stock.  Elated 
with  this  success,  they  proceeded  to  Fort  Wal 
lace,  that  poor  little  group  of  log  huts  and  mud 
cabins  having  apparently  no  power  of  resist 
ance.  Only  the  simplest  devices  could  be  re 
sorted  to  for  defence.  The  commissary  stores 
and  ammunition  were  partly  protected  by  a 


First  Fight  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry    61 

low  wall  of  gunny  -  sacks  filled  with  sand. 
There  were  no  logs  near  enough,  and  no  time 
if  there  had  been,  to  build  a  stockade.  But 
our  splendid  cavalry  charged  out  as  boldly  as 
if  they  were  leaving  behind  them  reserve  troops 
and  a  battery  of  artillery.  They  were  met  by 
the  Indians,  with  lances  poised  and  arrows  on 
the  string,  coming  on  swiftly  in  overwhelming 
numbers.  It  was  a  hand-to-hand  fight.  Ro 
man  Nose  was  about  to  throw  his  javelin  at 
one  of  our  men,  when  the  cavalryman  gave 
him  a  sabre-thrust  and  with  his  Spencer  rifle 
wounded  the  chief,  and  saw  him  fall  forward 
on  his  horse. 

The  post  had  been  so  short  of  men  that  a 
dozen  negro  soldiers,  who  had  come  with  their 
wagon  from  an  outpost  for  supplies,  were 
placed  near  the  garrison  on  picket  duty. 
While  the  fight  was  going  on,  the  two  officers 
in  command  found  themselves  on  the  skirmish- 
line,  and  observed  a  wagon  with  four  mules 
tearing  out  to  the  line  of  battle.  It  was  filled 
with  negroes,  standing  up,  all  firing  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  Indians.  The  driver  lashed  the 
mules  with  his  black-snake,  and  roared  at  them 
as  they  ran.  When  the  skirmish-line  was 
reached,  the  colored  men  leaped  out  and  be 
gan  firing  again.  No  one  had  ordered  them  to 


62  The  Boy   General 

leave  their  picket-station,  but  they  were  de 
termined  that  no  soldiering  should  be  carried 
on  in  which  their  valor  was  not  proved. 

Poor  Fort  Wallace !  In  another  attack  on 
the  post,  where  several  of  our  men  were  killed, 
there  chanced  to  be  some  engineers  stopping 
at  the  garrison,  on  their  way  to  New  Mexico. 
One  of  them,  carrying  a  small  camera,  photo 
graphed  a  sergeant  lying  on  the  battle-ground 
after  the  enemy  had  retreated.  The  body  was 
gashed  and  pierced  by  twenty -three  arrows. 
Everything  combined  to  keep  that  little  garri 
son  in  a  state  of  siege,  and  a  gloomy  pall  hung 
over  the  beleaguered  spot. 

As  the  stage-stations  were  one  after  another 
attacked,  burned,  the  men  murdered,  and  the 
stock  driven  off  for  a  distance  of  three  hundred 
miles,  the  difficulty  of  sending  mail  became 
almost  insurmountable.  Denver  lay  out  there 
at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  as  isolated  as  if  it 
had  been  a  lone  island  in  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
Whenever  a  coach  went  out  with  the  mail,  a 
second  one  was  filled  with  soldiers  and  led  the 
advance.  The  Seventh  Cavalry  endeavored  to 
fortify  some  of  the  deserted  stage-stations ;  but 
the  only  means  of  defence  consisted  in  burrow 
ing  underground.  After  the  holes  were  dug, 
barely  large  enough  for  four  men  standing,  and 


First  Fight  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry    63 

a  barrel  of  water  and  a  week's  provision,  it  was 
covered  over  with  logs  and  turf,  leaving  an 
aperture  for  firing.  Where  the  men  had  warn 
ing,  they  could  "  stand  off "  many  Indians,  and 
save  the  horses  in  another  dug-out  adjacent. 

At  one  of  the  stage-stations  nearest  Denver 
a  woman  had  endeavored  to  brave  it  out ;  but 
her  nerve  deserted  her  at  last,  and  she  im 
plored  our  officer  to  take  her  as  far  as  he  went 
on  her  way  into  the  States.  Her  husband,  try 
ing  to  protect  the  stage  company's  interests, 
elected  to  remain,  but  begged  that  his  wife 
might  be  taken  away  from  the  deadly  peril. 
Our  officer  frankly  said  there  was  little  chance 
that  the  stage  would  ever  reach  Fort  Wallace. 
She  replied  that  she  had  been  frightened  half 
to  death  all  summer,  and  was  sure  to  be  mur 
dered  if  she  remained,  and  might  as  well  die  in 
the  stage,  as  there  was  no  chance  for  her  at  the 
station. 

Every  revolution  of  the  wheels  brought 
them  into  greater  danger.  Three  soldiers  on 
the  top  of  the  stage  kept  a  lookout  on  every 
side,  while  the  officer  inside  sat  with  rifle  in 
hand,  looking  from  the  door  on  either  side  the 
trail.  Even  with  all  this  vigilance,  the  attack, 
when  it  came,  was  a  surprise.  The  Indians 
had  hidden  in  a  wash-out  near  the  road.  Their 


64  The  Boy  General 

first  shot  fatally  wounded  one  of  the  soldiers, 
who,  dropping  his  gun,  fell  over  the  coach  rail 
ing,  and  with  dying  energy,  half  swung  himself 
into  the  door  of  the  stage,  gasping  out  a  mes 
sage  to  his  mother.  Our  officer  replied  that  he 
would  listen  to  the  parting  words  later,  helped 
the  man  to  get  upon  the  seat,  and,  without  a 
preliminary,  pushed  the  woman  down  into  the 
deep  body  of  the  coach,  bidding  her,  as  she 
valued  the  small  hope  of  life,  not  to  let  her 
self  be  seen.  Those  familiar  with  Indian  war 
fare  know  well  with  what  ferocity  the  savage 
fights,  if  he  finds  that  a  white  woman  is  likely 
to  fall  into  his  hands.  It  is  well  known,  also, 
that  the  squaws  are  ignored  if  the  chiefs  have 
a  white  woman  in  their  power,  and  it  brings 
a  more  fearful  agony  to  her  lot,  for  when  the 
warriors  are  absent  from  the  village,  the 
squaws,  wild  with  jealousy,  heap  cruelty  and 
exhausting  labor  upon  the  helpless  victim. 
All  this  the  frontier  woman  knew  and  it  need 
ed  no  second  command  to  keep  her  head  on 
the  floor  of  the  coach. 

The  instant  the  dying  soldier  had  dropped 
his  gun,  the  driver — ah,  what  cool  heads  those 
stage-drivers  had  ! — seized  the  weapon,  thrust 
ing  his  lines  between  his  agile  and  muscular 
knees,  inciting  his  mules,  and  every  shot  had  a 


First  Fight  of  the  Seventh   Cavalry    65 

deadly  aim.  The  soldiers  fired  one  volley,  and 
then  leaped  to  the  ground  as  the  officer  sprang 
from  the  stage-door,  and  following  beside  the 
vehicle,  continued  to  fire  as  they  walked.  The 
first  two  shots  from  the  roof  of  the  coach  had 
killed  two  Indians  hidden  in  the  hole  made  by 
the  wash-out.  By  that  means  our  men  got  the 
upper  hand  of  them,  and  they  pursued  at  a 
greater  distance. 

This  running  fire  continued  for  five  miles, 
when,  fortunately,  one  of  the  stage  -  stations, 
where  a  few  men  had  been  posted,  was 
reached.  Here  a  halt  was  made,  as  the  Ind 
ians  congregated  on  a  bluff  where  they  could 
watch  safely.  The  coach  was  a  wreck.  The 
large  lamps  on  either  side  of  the  driver's  seat 
were  shattered,  and  there  were  six  bullet-holes 
between  the  roof  and  the  wooden  body  of 
the  coach.  When  the  door  of  the  stage  was 
opened,  the  crouching  woman  lifted  her  face 
from  the  floor  and  was  helped  out.  She  looked 
about,  and  said,  "  I  don't  see  any  Indians  yet." 
The  officer  told  her  that  if  she  would  take  the 
trouble  to  look  over  on  the  bluff,  she  would  find 
them  on  dress  parade.  Then  she  told  him 
about  her  experience  in  the  stage.  The  dying 
soldier  had  breathed  his  last  soon  after  he  fell 
into  the  coach,  and  all  the  five  miles  his  dead 


66  The  Boy  General 

body  kept  slipping  from  the  seat  on  to  hen  In 
vain  she  pushed  it  one  side ;  the  violence  with 
which  the  vehicle  rocked  from  side  to  side,  as 
the  driver  urged  his  animals  to  their  utmost 
speed,  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  protect 
herself  from  contact  with  the  heavy  corpse,  that 
rolled  about  with  the  plunging  of  the  coach. 

One  troop  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  left  to 
garrison  Fort  Wallace,  while  the  remainder  of 
the  regiment  was  scouting.  The  post  was  then 
about  as  dreary  as  any  spot  on  earth.  There 
were  no  trees ;  only  the  arid  plain  surrounded 
it,  and  the  sirocco  winds  drove  the  sands  of 
that  desolate  desert  into  the  dug-outs  that 
served  for  the  habitation  of  officers  and  men. 
The  supplies  were  of  the  worst  description.  It 
was  impossible  to  get  vegetables  and  there 
was,  therefore,  no  preventing  the  soldier's 
scourge,  scurvy,  which  the  heat  aggravated, 
inflaming  the  already  burning  flesh.  Even  the 
medical  supplies  were  limited.  None  of  the 
posts  at  that  time  were  provided  with  decent 
food — that  is,  none  beyond  the  railroad.  The 
bacon  issued  to  the  soldiers  was  not  only 
rancid,  but  was  supplied  by  dishonest  con 
tractors,  who  slipped  in  any  foreign  substance 
they  could,  to  make  the  weight  come  up  to  the 
required  amount;  and  thus  the  soldiers  were 


First  Fight  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry   67 

cheated  out  of  the  quantity  due  them,  as  well 
as  imposed  upon  in  the  quality  of  their  rations. 
It  was  the  privilege  of  the  enlisted  men  to 
make  their  complaints  to  the  commanding 
officer,  and  some  of  them  sent  to  ask  the  Gen 
eral  to  come  and  see  what  frauds  were  being 
practised.  I  went  with  him,  and  saw  a  flat 
stone,  the  size  of  the  slices  of  bacon  as  they 
were  packed  together,  sandwiched  between  the 
layers.  My  husband  was  justly  incensed,  but 
could  promise  no  immediate  redress.  The 
route  of  travel  was  so  dangerous  that  it  was 
necessary  to  detail  a  larger  number  of  men  to 
guard  any  train  of  supplies  that  attempted  to 
reach  those  distant  posts.  The  soldiers  felt 
that  it  was  an  outrage  that  preparations  for  the 
arrival  of  so  large  a  number  of  troops  had  not 
been  perfected  in  the  spring,  before  the  whole 
country  was  in  a  state  of  siege.  The  supplies 
provided  for  those  troops  operating  in  the  field 
or  stationed  at  the  posts  had  been  sent  out  dur 
ing  the  war.  It  was  then  1867,  and  they  had 
lain  in  the  poor,  ill-protected  adobe  or  dug-out 
storehouse  all  the  intervening  time  —  more 
than  two  years.  At  Forts  Wallace  and  Hays 
there  were  no  storehouses,  and  the  flour  and 
bacon  were  only  protected  by  tarpaulins.  Both 
became  rancid  and  mouldy,  and  were  at  the 


68  The  Boy   General 

mercy  of  the  rats  and  mice.  A  larger  quantity 
of  supplies  was  forwarded  to  that  portion  of 
the  country  the  last  year  of  the  war  than  was 
needed  for  the  volunteer  troops  sent  out  there, 
and  consequently  our  Seventh  Cavalry,  scout 
ing  day  and  night  all  through  that  eventful 
summer,  were  compelled  to  subsist  on  the  food 
already  on  hand.  The  desertions  were  unceas 
ing.  The  nearer  the  troops  approached  the 
mountains,  the  more  the  men  took  themselves 
off  to  the  mines. 

In  April  of  that  year  no  deaths  had  occurred 
at  Fort  Wallace,  but  by  November  there  were 
sixty  mounds  outside  the  garrison,  covering  the 
brave  hearts  of  soldiers  who  had  either  suc 
cumbed  to  illness  or  been  shot  by  Indians.  It 
was  a  fearful  mortality  for  a  garrison  of  fewer 
than  two  hundred  souls.  If  the  soldiers,  hun 
gry  for  fresh  meat,  went  out  to  shoot  buffalo, 
the  half  of  them  mounted  guard  to  protect 
those  who  literally  took  their  lives  in  their 
hands  to  provide  a  few  meals  of  wholesome 
food  for  themselves  and  their  comrades.  At 
one  company  post  on  the  South  Platte  a  troop 
of  our  Seventh  Cavalry  was  stationed.  In  the 
mining  excitement  that  ran  so  high  in  1866  and 
1867,  the  Captain  woke  one  morning  to  find  that 
his  first  sergeant  and  forty  out  of  sixty  men  had 


First  Fight  of  the  Seventh   Cavalry    69 

decamped,  with  horses  and  equipments,  for  the 
mines.  This  left  the  handful  of  men  in  immi 
nent  peril  from  Indian  assaults. 

Our  regiment  was  now  passing  through  its 
worst  days.  Constant  scouting  over  the  sun 
baked,  cactus-bedded  Plains,  by  men  who  were 
learning  by  the  severest  lessons  to  inure  them 
selves  to  hardships,  made  terrible  havoc  in  the 
ranks.  The  horses  grew  gaunt,  and  dragged 
their  miserably  fed  bodies  over  the  blistering 
trail.  Here  and  there  along  the  line  a  trooper 
walked  beside  his  beast,  wetting,  when  he  could, 
the  flesh  that  was  raw  from  the  chafing  of  the 
saddle. 

Insubordination  among  the  men  was  the  cer 
tain  consequence  of  the  half-starved,  discour 
aged  state  they  were  in.  One  good  fight  would 
have  put  heart  into  them,  for  the  hopelessness 
of  following  such  a  will-o'-the-wisp  as  the  Ind 
ians  were  that  year,  made  them  think  their 
scouting  did  no  good.  In  its  early  days  the 
Seventh  Cavalry  was  not  the  fine  regiment  it 
afterward  became. 

There  were  troopers  who  had  entered  the 
service  from  a  romantic  love  of  adventure,  with 
little  idea  of  the  stuff  a  man  must  be  made  of  if 
he  is  hourly  in  peril,  or  continually  called  upon 
to  endure  privation. 


7O  The  Boy  General 

The  mines  were  evidently  the  great  object 
that  induced  the  soldier  to  enlist  that  year. 
The  Eastern  papers  had  wild  accounts  of  the 
enormous  yield  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and 
free  transportation  by  Government  could  be 
gained  by  enlisting.  At  that  time,  when  the 
railroad  was  incomplete,  and  travel  almost 
given  up  on  account  of  danger  to  the  stages ; 
when  the  telegraph,  which  now  reaches  the 
destination  of  the  rogue  with  its  warning  far  in 
advance  of  him,  had  not  even  been  projected 
over  the  Plains  —  it  was  the  easiest  sort  of 
escape  for  a  man,  for  when  once  he  reached 
the  mines  he  was  lost  for  years. 

In  one  night,  while  I  was  at  Fort  Hays,  forty 
men  deserted,  and  in  so  bold  and  deliberate  a 
manner,  taking  arms,  ammunition,  horses,  and 
quantities  of  food,  that  the  officers  were  roused 
to  action,  for  it  looked  as  if  not  enough  men 
would  be  left  to  protect  the  fort.  A  conspiracy 
was  formed  among  the  men,  by  which  a  third 
of  the  whole  command  planned  to  desert  at 
one  time.  Had  not  their  plotting  been  discov 
ered,  there  would  not  have  been  a  safe  hour 
for  those  who  remained,  as  the  Indians  lay  in 
wait  constantly. 

After  weary  marches,  the  regiment  found  it 
self  nearing  Fort  Wallace  with  a  sense  of  relief, 


First  Fight  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry    71 

feeling  that  they  might  recruit  in  that  miserable 
but  comparatively  safe  post.  They  were  met 
by  the  news  of  the  ravages  of  the  cholera.  No 
time  could  be  worse  for  the  soldiers  to  en 
counter  it.  The  long,  trying  campaign  had 
fatigued  and  disheartened  the  command.  Ex 
haustion  and  semi-starvation  made  the  men  an 
easy  prey.  The  climate,  though  so  hot  in  sum 
mer,  had  heretofore  been  in  their  favor,  as  the 
air  was  pure,  and,  in  ordinary  weather,  bracing. 
But  with  cholera,  even  the  high  altitude  was  no 
protection.  No  one  could  account  for  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  pestilence  ;  never  before  had 
it  been  known  in  so  elevated  a  part  of  our 
country.  There  were  those  who  attributed 
the  scourge  to  the  upturning  of  the  earth  in 
building  the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad ;  but  the 
engineers  had  not  even  been  able  to  prospect 
as  far  as  Wallace  on  account  of  the  Indians. 
An  infantry  regiment,  on  its  march  to  New 
Mexico,  halted  at  Fort  Wallace,  and  even  in 
their  brief  stay  the  men  were  stricken  down. 

It  was  a  hard  fate  for  our  Seventh  Cavalry 
men.  Their  camp,  outside  the  garrison,  had 
no  protection  from  the  remorseless  sun,  and  the 
poor  fellows  rolled  on  the  hot  earth  in  their 
small  tents,  without  a  cup  of  cold  water  or  a 
morsel  of  decent  food.  The  surgeons  fought 


72  The  Boy  General 

day  and  night  to  stay  the  spread  of  the  disease, 
but  everything-  was  against  them.  The  ex 
hausted  soldiers,  disheartened  by  long,  hard, 
unsuccessful  marching,  had  little  desire  to  live 
when  seized  by  the  awful  disease. 

Though  the  mails  were  so  uncertain,  the 
story  of  the  illness  and  desperate  condition  of 
our  regiment  reached  us,  and  many  an  exag 
gerated  tale  came  with  the  true  ones.  Day 
after  day  I  sat  on  the  gallery  of  the  quarters 
watching  for  the  first  sign  of  the  cavalryman 
who  brought  our  mail.  Doubtless  he  thought 
himself  a  winged  Mercury.  In  reality,  no  snail 
ever  crept  so  slowly.  When  he  began  his  walk 
toward  me,  measuring  his  steps  with  military 
precision,  a  world  of  fretful  impatience  pos 
sessed  me.  I  wished  with  all  my  soul  that  I 
might  pick  up  my  skirts  and  fly  over  the  grass, 
and  snatch  the  parcel  from  his  hand.  When 
he  finally  reached  the  gallery,  and  swung  him 
self  into  position  to  salute,  my  heart  thumped 
like  the  infantry  drum.  Day  after  day  came 
the  same  pompous,  maddening  words  :  "  I  have 
the  honor  to  report  there  are  no  letters  for  Mrs. 
Major  -  General  George  Armstrong  Custer." 
Not  caring  at  last  whether  the  man  saw  the 
flush  of  disappointment,  the  choking  breath, 
and  the  rising  tears,  I  fled  in  the  midst  of  his 


First  Fig/it  of  tJic  Seventh   Cavalry    73 

slow  announcement,  to  plunge  my  wretched 
head  into  my  pillow.  After  days  of  such 
gloom,  my  leaden  heart  one  morning  quick 
ened  its  beats  at  an  unusual  sound — the  clank 
of  a  sabre  on  our  gallery  and  with  it  the  quick, 
springing  steps  of  feet  unlike  the  quiet  infantry 
around  us.  The  door,  behind  which  I  paced 
uneasily,  opened,  and  with  a  flood  of  sunshine 
that  poured  in,  came  a  vision  far  brighter  than 
even  the  brilliant  Kansas  sun.  There  before 
me,  blithe  and  buoyant,  stood  my  husband ! 
What  had  I  to  ask  more  ?  The  General,  as 
usual  when  happy,  talked  so  rapidly  that  the 
words  jumbled  themselves  into  hopeless  tan 
gles,  but  my  ears  were  keen  enough  to  extract 
from  the  medley  the  fact  that  I  was  to  return 
at  once  with  him. 

Eliza,  half  crying,  scolding  as  she  did  when 
overjoyed,  vibrated  between  kitchen  and  par 
lor,  and  finally  fell  to  cooking,  as  a  safety-valve 
for  her  overcharged  spirits.  The  General  or 
dered  everything  she  had  in  the  house,  deter 
mined  to  have,  for  once  in  that  summer,  one 
"  good,  square  meal,"  as  the  soldiers  term  it. 

When  my  reason  was  again  enthroned,  I  be 
gan  to  ask  what  good  fortune  had  brought  him. 
It  seems  that  my  husband,  after  reaching  Fort 
Wallace,  was  overwhelmed  with  the  discour- 


74  The  Boy  General 

agements  that  met  him.  His  men  dying  about 
him,  without  his  being  able  to  afford  them  re 
lief,  was  something  impossible  for  him  to  face 
without  a  struggle  for  their  assistance.  A 
greater  danger  than  all  was  yet  to  be  encoun 
tered,  if  the  right  measures  were  not  taken  im 
mediately.  There  was  not  enough  food  left  to 
ration  the  men,  and  unless  more  came  they 
would  starve.  If  a  scout  was  sent,  his  progress 
was  so  slow,  hiding  all  day  and  travelling  only 
by  night,  it  would  take  so  long  that  there  might 
be  men  dying  from  hunger  as  well  as  cholera, 
before  he  could  return  with  aid.  And,  besides 
this  scarcity  of  food,  the  medical  supplies  were 
insufficient.  The  General,  prompt  always  in 
action,  suddenly  determined  to  relieve  the  be 
leaguered  place  by  going  himself  for  medicines 
and  rations.  He  took  a  hundred  men  to  guard 
the  wagons,  and  in  fifty-five  hours  they  were  at 
Fort  Hays,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant. 
It  was  a  terrible  journey. 

My  little  valise  was  filled  long  before  it  was 
necessary  for  us  to  take  the  return  train  that 
evening.  With  the  joy,  the  relief,  the  gratitude, 
of  knowing  that  God  had  spared  my  husband 
through  an  Indian  campaign,  and  averted  from 
him  the  cholera ;  and  that  I  was  to  be  'given 
reprieve  from  days  of  anxiety,  and  nights  of 


Battle  of  the   Washita  75 

hideous  dreams,  and  that  I  should  be  taken  back 
to  camp — could  more  be  crowded  into  one  day  ? 
Was  there  room  for  a  thought,  save  one  of 
devout  thankfulness,  and  such  happiness  as  I 
find  no  words  to  describe  ? 

There  was  in  that  summer  of  1867  one  long, 
perfect  day — it  is  still  mine,  for  time  and  for 
eternity. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BATTLE   OF  THE   WASHITA 

THE  orders  for  moving  toward  the  Indian 
village  were  issued  on  the  evening  of  Novem 
ber  22,  1868.  It  began  to  snow  and  our  men 
stood  round  the  camp-fire  for  their  breakfast 
at  five  o'clock  the  next  morning,  the  snow  al 
most  up  to  their  knees.  The  Seventh,  consist 
ing  of  nine  hundred  men,  was  to  leave  General 
Sheridan  and  the  infantry,  and  all  the  extra 
wagons  and  supplies,  and  strike  out  into  this 
blinding  storm.  General  Sheridan,  awake  with 
anxiety  at  reveille,  called  out  to  ask  what  Gen 
eral  Custer  thought  about  the  snow  and  the 
storm.  The  reply  was,  "  All  the  better  for  us ; 
we  can  move,  the  Indians  cannot."  The  pack 
ing  was  soon  done,  as  every  ounce  of  super- 


76  The  Boy  General 

fluous  baggage  was  left  behind,  and  forward 
our  brave  fellows  pushed  into  the  dawn. 

The  air  was  so  filled  with  the  fine  snow  that 
it  was  perilous  to  separate  one's  self  even  a 
short  distance  from  the  column.  The  Indian 
guides  could  not  see  any  landmarks,  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  compass  of  the  commanding 
officer,  an  advance  would  have  been  impos 
sible.  At  night,  camp  was  made  in  some  tim 
ber  bordering  a  creek,  and  the  snow  still  fell 
so  fast  that  the  officers  themselves  helped  to 
shovel  it  away  while  the  soldiers  stretched  the 
small  amount  of  canvas  that  was  spread.  Fort 
unately,  even  at  that  late  season,  fresh  meat 
was  secured  for  all  the  command,  for  in  the 
underbrush  of  the  streams  one  out  of  a  group 
of  benumbed  buffaloes  was  easily  killed. 

In  crossing  the  Canadian  River,  the  quick 
sands,  the  floating  snow  and  ice,  were  faced 
uncomplainingly,  and  the  nine  hundred  wet 
soldiers  started  up  the  opposite  side  without 
a  murmur. 

Finally  the  Indian  trail,  so  long  looked  for, 
was  struck,  and  the  few  wagons  were  ordered 
to  halt ;  and  only  such  supplies  as  could  be 
carried  on  the  person  or  the  horse,  consisting 
of  rations,  forage,  and  a  hundred  rounds  of 
ammunition  for  each  trooper,  were  taken. 


Battle  of  the   Washita  77 

The  first  hours  of  following  the  trail  were 
terribly  hard.  Men  and  horses  suffered  for 
food,  for  from  four  in  the  morning  till  nine  at 
night  no  halt  could  be  made.  Then  by  hiding 
under  the  deep  banks  of  the  stream,  fires  were 
lighted,  and  the  men  had  coffee  and  the  horses 
oats ;  but  no  bugle  sounded,  no  voice  was 
raised,  as  the  Indians  might  be  dangerously 
near.  The  advance  was  taken  up  again  with 
the  Indian  guides  creeping  stealthily  along 
in  front,  tracing  as  best  they  could  the  route 
of  their  foes.  The  soldier  was  even  deprived 
of  his  beloved  pipe,  for  a  spark  might,  at  that 
moment,  lose  all  which  such  superhuman  efforts 
had  been  put  forth  to  gain. 

After  what  seemed  an  interminable  time,  the 
ashes  of  a  fire  lately  extinguished  were  dis 
covered  ;  then  farther  on  a  dog  barked,  and 
finally  the  long-looked-for  Indian  village  was 
discovered  by  the  cry  of  a  baby. 

The  rest  of  the  night  was  spent  in  posting 
the  command  on  different  sides  of  the  village, 
in  snatching  a  brief  sleep,  stretched  out  on  the 
snow,  and  in  longing  for  daybreak.  Excite 
ment  kept  the  ardent  soldiers  warm,  and  when 
the  band  put  their  cold  lips  to  the  still  colder 
metal,  aud  struck  up  "  Garryowen,"  the  sol 
diers'  hearts  were  bursting  with  enthusiasm. 


78  The  Boy  General 

At  the  sound  of  the  bugles  blowing  on  the  still 
morning  air — the  few  spirited  notes  of  the  call 
to  "  charge  " — in  went  the  few  hundred  men 
as  confidently  as  if  there  had  been  thousands  of 
them,  and  a  reserve  corps  at  the  rear. 

Often  as  this  battle  has  been  talked  over  be 
fore  me,  I  do  not  feel  myself  especially  im 
pressed  with  its  military  details  ;  womanlike, 
the  cry  of  the  Indian  baby,  the  capture  of  a 
white  woman,  the  storm  that  drenched  our 
brave  men,  are  all  fresher  in  my  memory,  and 
come  to  my  pen  more  readily,  than  the  actual 
charging  and  fighting. 

Many  of  the  squaws  and  children  fought  like 
the  Indians,  darting  in  and  out  and  firing  with 
cool  aim  from  the  opening  of  the  tepees.  Some 
of  these  squaws  followed  in  the  retreat,  but 
there  were  some  still  prudent  enough  to  re 
main  out  of  sight.  While  the  fight  was  going 
on  they  sang  dirges  in  a  minor  key,  all  be 
lieving  their  own  last  hour  had  come. 

The  attention  of  Captain  Yates  was  attracted 
to  the  glittering  of  something  bright  in  the 
underbrush.  In  a  moment  a  shot  from  a  pistol 
explained  that  the  glistening  object  was  the 
barrel  of  a  pistol,  and  he  was  warned  by  his 
soldiers  that  it  was  a  squaw  who  had  aimed  for 
him,  and  was  preparing  to  fire  again.  He  then 


Battle  of  the    Washita  79 

went  round  a  short  distance  to  investigate,  and 
found  a  squaw  standing-  in  the  stream,  one  leg 
broken,  but  holding  her  pappoose  closely  to 
her.  She  resisted  most  vigorously  every  at 
tempt  to  capture  her,  though  the  agony  of  her 
shattered  limb  must  have  been  extreme.  When 
she  found  that  her  pistol  was  likely  to  be  taken, 
she  threw  it  in  the  stream,  and  fought  fiercely 
again.  At  last  they  succeeded  in  getting  her 
pappoose,  and  she  surrendered.  She  was  car 
ried  forward  to  a  tepee,  where  our  surgeon 
took  charge  of  her. 

As  soon  as  the  warriors  were  driven  out, 
"  Romeo,"  who  spoke  the  dialect,  was  sent 
by  the  commanding  officer  to  set  the  fears  of 
the  self-imprisoned  women  at  rest,  and  they 
were  then  all  gathered  in  some  of  the  larger 
lodges. 

Before  leaving  the  battle-ground  it  was 
necessary,  if  our  troops  hoped  really  to  cripple 
the  enemy  and  prevent  further  invasion,  to 
destroy  the  property,  for  it  was  impossible  to 
carry  away  much  of  what  had  been  captured. 
The  contents  of  the  village  were  collected  in 
heaps  and  burned.  The  ponies  were  crowded 
together  and  shot.  It  took  three  companies  an 
hour  and  a  half  to  kill  the  eight  hundred  ponies. 
This  last  duty  was  something  the  officers  never 


8o  The  Boy  General 

forgot.  Nothing  but  the  exigencies  of  war 
could  have  driven  them  to  it.  But  they  could 
not  be  driven  away  in  the  deep  snow,  and  with 
so  small  a  command  it  was  impossible  to  spare 
men  to  attempt  the  rescue  of  the  poor,  dumb, 
helpless  beasts. 

In  order  to  escape  from  the  situation,  which 
was  most  threatening,  for  the  Indians  were 
assembling  on  the  bluffs  overlooking  the  com 
mand,  General  Custer  put  on  a  brave  front, 
and  ordered  the  band  to  play  "  Garryowen," 
and  the  colors  to  be  unfurled ;  the  skirmishers 
were  sent  on  in  advance,  and  the  command  set 
out  in  the  direction  of  the  other  villages.  The 
Indians,  perceiving  not  only  the  determined 
advance,  but  appreciating  that  every  sign  of 
past  victory  was  apparent,  supposed  the  tri 
umphant  troops  were  about  to  march  on  the 
villages  below,  and  they  fled  before  the  column. 
After  dark  the  order  to  countermarch  was 
given,  and  as  rapidly  as  possible  the  tired 
troopers  rode  back  to  the  train  of  supplies  that 
had  been  endeavoring  for  days  to  make  its 
way  to  the  regiment. 


From  •'  Following  the  Gui.lon."  Copyright,  1890,  by  HARPKR  &  BROTHERS 

GENERAL   CUSTER    AND    HIS    INDIAN    SCOUTS. 


The  Boy  General  in  the  Northwest    81 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  BOY  GENERAL  IN  THE  NORTHWEST 

WE  remained  in  Kansas  five  years,  during 
which  time  I  was  the  only  officer's  wife  who 
always  followed  the  regiment.  We  were  then 
ordered,  with  the  regiment,  to  Kentucky.  After 
being  there  two  years,  we  went  to  Dakota  in 
the  spring  of  1873. 

When  orders  came  for  the  Seventh  Cavalry 
to  go  into  the  field  again,  General  Custer  was 
delighted.  The  regiment  was  stationed  in  var 
ious  parts  of  the  South,  on  the  very  disagree 
able  duty  of  breaking  up  illicit  distilleries  and 
suppressing  the  Ku-Klux.  Fortunately  for  us, 
being  in  Kentucky,  we  knew  very  little  of  this 
service.  It  seemed  an  unsoldierly  life,  for  a 
true  cavalryman  feels  that  a  life  in  the  saddle  on 
the  free  open  plain  is  his  legitimate  existence. 

Not  an  hour  elapsed  after  the  official  docu 
ment  announcing  our  change  of  station  had 
arrived,  before  our  house  was  torn  up.  In  the 
confusion  I  managed  to  retire  to  a  corner  with 
an  atlas,  and  on  the  sly  look  up  the  territory  to 
which  we  were  going.  I  hardly  liked  to  own 


82  The  Boy   General 

that  I  had  forgotten  its  location.  When  my 
finger  traced  our  route  from  Kentucky  almost 
up  to  the  border  of  the  British  possessions,  it 
seemed  as  if  we  were  going  to  Lapland. 

From  the  first  days  of  our  marriage,  General 
Custer  celebrated  every  order  to  move  with 
wild  demonstrations  of  joy.  His  exuberance 
of  spirits  always  found  expression  in  some  boy 
ish  pranks,  before  he  could  set  to  work  seriously 
to  prepare  for  duty.  As  soon  as  the  officer  an 
nouncing  the  order  to  move  had  disappeared, 
all  sorts  of  hilarity  began.  I  had  learned  to 
take  up  a  safe  position  on  top  of  the  table  ;  that 
is,  if  I  had  not  already  been  placed  there  as  a 
spectator.  The  most  disastrous  result  of  the 
proceedings  was  possibly  a  broken  chair,  which 
the  master  of  ceremonies  would  crash,  and, 
perhaps,  throw  into  the  kitchen  by  way  of  in 
forming  the  cook  that  good  news  had  come. 
We  had  so  few  household  effects  that  it  was 
something  of  a  loss  when  we  chanced  to  be  in 
a  country  where  they  could  not  be  replaced.  I 
can  see  Eliza's  woolly  head  now,  as  she  thrust  it 
through  the  door  to  reprimand  her  master,  and 
say,  "  Chairs  don't  grow  on  trees  in  these  yere 
parts,  Gen'l."  As  for  me,  I  was  tossed  about 
the  room,  and  all  sorts  of  jokes  were  played 
upon  me  before  the  frolic  was  ended. 


The  Boy  General  in  the  Northwest    83 

I  know  that  it  would  surprise  a  well-regulat 
ed  mover  to  see  what  short  work  it  was  for  us 
to  prepare  for  our  journeys.  We  began  by 
having  a  supply  of  gunny-sacks  and  hay  brought 
in  from  the  stables.  The  saddler  appeared,  and 
all  our  old  traps  were  once  more  tied  and  sewed 
up.  The  kitchen  utensils  were  plunged  into 
barrels,  generally  left  uncovered  in  the  hurry ; 
rolls  of  bedding  encased  in  waterproof  cloth  or 
canvas  were  strapped  and  roped,  and  the  few 
pictures  and  books  were  crowded  into  chests 
and  boxes.  When  these  possessions  were  loaded 
upon  the  wagon,  at  the  last  moment  there  always 
appeared  the  cook's  bedding  to  surmount  the 
motley  pile.  Her  property  was  invariably  tied 
up  in  a  flaming  quilt  representing  souvenirs  of 
her  friends'  dresses.  She  followed  that  last  in 
stalment  with  anxious  eyes,  and,  true  to  her 
early  training,  grasped  her  red  bandanna,  con 
taining  a  few  last  things,  while  the  satchel  she 
scorned  to  use  hung  empty  on  her  arm. 

Steamers  were  ready  for  us  at  Memphis,  and 
we  went  thither  by  rail  to  embark.  When  the 
regiment  was  gathered  together,  after  a  separa 
tion  of  two  years,  there  were  hearty  greetings, 
and  exchanges  of  troublous  or  droll  experiences ; 
thankful  to  be  reunited,  we  entered  again,  heart 
and  soul,  into  the  minutest  detail  of  one  another's 


84  The  Boy  General 

lives.  We  went  into  camp  for  a  few  days  on 
the  outskirts  of  Memphis,  and  exchanged  hos 
pitalities  with  the  citizens.  The  bachelors  found 
an  elysium  in  the  society  of  many  pretty  girls, 
and  love-making  went  on  in  parlors  or  in  the 
open  air  as  they  rode  in  the  warm  spring  weather 
to  and  from  our  camp.  Three  steamers  were 
at  last  loaded  and  we  went  on  to  Cairo,  where 
we  found  the  trains  prepared  to  take  us  into 
Dakota. 

The  regiment  was  never  up  to  its  maximum 
of  twelve  hundred,  but  there  may  have  been 
eight  or  nine  hundred  soldiers  and  as  many 
horses.  The  property  of  the  companies — sad 
dles,  equipments,  arms,  ammunition,  and  forage 
— together  with  the  personal  luggage  of  the 
officers,  made  the  trains  very  heavy,  and  we 
travelled  slowly.  We  were  a  week  or  more  on 
the  route.  Our  days  were  varied  by  the  long 
stops  necessary  to  water  the  horses,  and  occa 
sionally  to  take  them  out  of  the  cars  for  exer 
cise.  My  husband  and  I  always  went  on  these 
occasions  to  loose  the  dogs  and  have  a  frolic 
and  a  little  visit  with  our  own  horses.  The 
youth  and  gamins  of  the  village  gathered  about 
us  as  if  we  had  been  some  travelling  show. 
While  on  the  journey  one  of  our  family  had  a 
birthday.  This  was  always  a  day  of  frolic  and 


The  Boy  General  in  the  Northwest     85 

fun,  and  even  when  we  were  on  the  extreme 
frontier,  presents  were  sent  for  into  the  States, 
and  we  had  a  little  dinner  and  a  birthday-cake. 
This  birthday  that  came  during  the  journey 
did  not  leave  utterly  without  resources  the 
minds  of  those  whose  ingenuity  was  quickened 
by  affection.  The  train  was  delayed  that  day 
for  a  long  time,  and  our  colored  cook,  Mary, 
successor  to  Eliza  who  had  married  and  gone 
South,  determined  on  a  feast.  She  slyly  took 
a  basket  and  filled  it  at  the  shops  in  the  village 
street.  She  had  already  made  friends  with 
a  woman  who  had  a  little  cabin  tucked  in  be 
tween  the  rails  and  the  embankment,  and  there 
the  never-absent  "eureka"  coffee-pot  was  pro 
duced  and  most  delicious  coffee  dripped.  Re 
turning  to  the  car-stove,  which  she  had  dis 
covered  was  filled  with  a  bed  of  coals,  she  broiled 
us  a  steak,  and  baked  some  potatoes.  The 
General  and  I  were  made  to  sit  down  opposite 
each  other  in  one  of  the  compartments.  A  board 
was  brought  covered  with  a  clean  towel,  and  we 
did  table-legs  to  this  impromptu  table.  We 
did  not  dare  move  for  fear  we  should  overturn 
the  laden  board.  For  dessert,  a  large  plate  of 
macaroons  was  brought  out  as  a  surprise.  Mary 
told  me,  with  great  glee,  how  she  had  seen  the 
General  prowling  in  the  bakers'  shops  to  buy 


§6  The  Boy  General 

them,  and  described  the  train  of  small  boys  who 
followed  him  when  he  came  back  with  his 
brown  paper  parcel.  "  Miss  Libby,"  she  said, 
"  they  thought  a  sure  enough  gen'l  always  went 
on  horseback  and  carried  his  sword  in  his 
hand." 

We  were  so  hungry  we  scarcely  realized  that 
we  were  not  the  embodiment  of  picturesque 
grace.  No  one  could  be  otherwise  than  awk 
ward  in  trying  to  cut  food  on  such  an  uncertain 
base,  while  Mary  had  taken  the  last  scrap  of 
dignity  away  from  the  General's  appearance  by 
enveloping  him  in  a  kitchen-towel  as  a  substi 
tute  for  a  napkin.  With  their  usual  indepen 
dence,  troops  of  curious  citizens  stalked  through 
the  car  to  stare  at  my  husband.  We  went  on 
eating  calmly,  unconscious  that  they  thought 
the  picture  hardly  in  keeping  with  their  pre 
conceived  ideas  of  a  commanding  officer. 
When  we  thanked  Mary  for  our  feast,  her  face 
beamed  with  a  combination  of  joy  at  our  delight 
and  heat  from  the  stove.  When  she  lifted  up 
our  frugal  board  and  set  us  free,  we  had  a  long 
stroll,  talking  over  other  birthdays  and  those 
yet  to  come,  until  the  train  was  ready  to  start. 


An  April  Blizzard  87 


CHAPTER  X 

AN  APRIL  BLIZZARD 

AFTER  so  many  days  in  the  car,  we  were 
glad  to  stop  on  an  open  plain  about  a  mile 
from  the  town  of  Yankton,  where  the  road 
ended. 

The  three  chief  considerations  for  a  camp 
are  wood,  water,  and  good  ground.  The  latter 
we  had,  but  we  were  at  some  distance  from 
the  water,  and  neither  trees  nor  brushwood 
were  in  sight. 

The  long  trains  were  unloaded  and  the 
plains  about  us  seemed  to  swarm  with  men 
and  horses.  I  was  helped  down  from  the 
Pullman  car,  where  inlaid  woods,  mirrors,  and 
plush  surrounded  us,  to  the  ground,  perfectly 
bare  of  every  earthly  comfort.  The  other 
ladies  of  the  regiment  went  on  to  the  hotel  in 
the  town.  The  General  suggested  that  I  should 
go  with  them,  but  I  had  been  in  camp  so  many 
summers  it  was  not  a  formidable  matter  for 
me  to  remain,  and  fortunately  for  what  fol 
lowed  I  did  so.  The  household  belongings 
were  gathered  together.  A  family  of  new 


88  The  Boy  General 

puppies,  some  half-grown  dogs,  the  cages  of 
mocking-birds  and  canaries,  were  all  corralled 
safely  in  a  little  stockade  made  of  chests  and 
trunks,  and  we  set  ourselves  about  making  a 
temporary  home.  The  General  and  a  number 
of  soldiers  were  obliged  to  go  at  once  to  lay 
out  the  main  camp  and  assign  the  companies 
to  their  places.  Later  on  our  tents  were  to  be 
pitched.  While  I  sat  on  a  chest  waiting,  the 
air  grew  suddenly  chilly,  the  bright  sun  of 
the  morning  disappeared,  and  the  rain  began 
to  fall.  Had  we  been  accustomed  to  the  cli 
mate  we  should  have  known  that  these  changes 
were  the  precursors  of  a  snow-storm. 

When  we  left  Memphis,  we  wore  muslin 
gowns  and  were  then  uncomfortably  warm  ;  it 
seemed  impossible  that  even  so  far  north  there 
could  be  winter  in  the  middle  of  April.  On 
the  bluffs  beyond  us  was  a  signal-station,  but 
they  sent  us  no  warning.  Each  new  country 
has  its  peculiarities,  and  it  seemed  we  had 
reached  one  where  all  the  others  were  out 
done.  As  the  afternoon  of  that  first  day  ad 
vanced,  the  wind  blew  colder,  and  I  found  my 
self  eying  with  envy  a  little  half-finished  cabin 
without  an  enclosure,  standing  by  itself.  Years 
of  encountering  the  winds  of  Kansas,  when 
our  tents  were  torn  and  blown  down  so  often, 


An  April  Blizzard  89 

had  taught  me  to  appreciate  any  kind  of 
house,  even  though  it  were  built  upon  the  sand 
as  this  one  was.  A  dug-out,  which  the  tor 
nado  swept  over,  but  could  not  harm,  was  even 
more  of  a  treasure.  The  change  of  climate 
from  the  extreme  south  to  the  far  north  had 
made  a  number  of  the  men  ill,  and  even  the 
superb  health  of  the  General  had  suffered.  He 
continued  to  superintend  the  camp,  however, 
though  I  begged  him  from  time  to  time  to 
give  up.  I  felt  sure  he  ne-eded  a  shelter  and 
some  comfort  at  once,  so  I  took  courage  to 
plan  for  myself.  Before  this  I  had  always 
waited,  as  the  General  preferred  to  prepare 
everything  for  me.  After  he  had  consented 
that  we  should  try  for  the  little  house,  some  of 
the  kind-hearted  soldiers  found  the  owner  in  a 
distant  cabin,  and  he  rented  it  to  us  for  a  few 
days.  The  place  was  equal  to  a  palace  to  me. 
There  was  no  plastering,  and  the  house  seemed 
hardly  weather-proof.  It  had  a  floor,  however, 
and  an  upper  story  divided  off  by  beams ;  over 
these  Mary  and  I  stretched  blankets  and  shawls 
and  so  made  two  rooms.  It  did  not  take  long 
to  settle  our  few  things,  and  when  wood  and 
water  were  brought  from  a  distance  we  were 
quite  ready  for  housekeeping,  except  that  we 
lacked  a  stove  and  some  supplies.  Mary 


go  The  Boy  General 

walked  into  the  town  to  get  a  small  cooking- 
stove,  but  she  could  not  induce  the  merchant 
to  bring1  it  out  that  night.  She  was  thoughtful 
enough  to  take  along  a  basket  and  brought 
with  her  a  little  marketing.  On  her  return,  the 
snow  was  falling  so  fast  it  was  with  difficulty 
that  she  found  her  way. 

Meanwhile  the  General  had  returned  com 
pletely  exhausted  and  very  ill.  I  sent  for  the 
surgeon,  who,  like  all  of  his  profession  in  the 
army,  came  promptly.  He  gave  me  some 
powerful  medicine  to  administer  every  hour, 
and  forbade  the  General  to  leave  his  bed.  It 
was  growing  dark,  and  we  were  in  the  midst 
of  a  Dakota  blizzard.  The  snow  was  so  fine 
that  it  penetrated  the  smallest  cracks,  and  soon 
we  found  white  lines  appearing  all  around  us, 
where  the  roof  joined  the  walls,  on  the  win 
dows  and  under  the  doors.  Outside,  the  air 
was  so  thick  with  the  whirling,  tiny  particles 
that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  see  one's  hand 
held  out  before  one.  The  snow  was  fluffy  and 
thick,  like  wool,  and  fell  so  rapidly,  and  seem 
ingly  from  all  directions,  that  it  gave  me  a 
feeling  of  suffocation.  Mary  was  not  easily 
discouraged,  and  piling  a  few  light  fagots  out 
side  the  door,  she  tried  to  light  a  fire.  The 
wind  and  the  muffling  snow  put  out  every  lit- 


An  April  Blizzard  91 

tie  blaze  that  started,  however,  and  so,  giving 
it  up,  she  went  into  the  house  and  found  the 
luncheon-basket  we  had  brought  from  the  car, 
in  which  remained  some  sandwiches,  and  these 
composed  our  supper. 

The  night  had  almost  settled  down  upon 
us  when  the  Adjutant  came  for  orders.  Know 
ing  the  scarcity  of  fuel  and  the  danger  to  the 
horses  from  exposure  to  the  rigor  of  such 
weather  after  their  removal  from  a  warm  cli 
mate,  the  General  ordered  the  breaking  of 
camp.  All  the  soldiers  were  directed  to  take 
their  horses  and  go  into  Yankton,  and  ask  the 
citizens  to  give  them  shelter  in  their  homes, 
cow-sheds,  and  stables.  In  a  short  time  the 
camp  was  nearly  deserted,  only  the  laundress 
es,  two  or  three  officers,  and  a  few  dismounted 
soldiers  remaining.  The  towns-people,  true  to 
the  unvarying  Western  hospitality,  gave  every 
thing  they  could  to  the  use  of  the  regiment ; 
the  officers  found  places  in  the  hotels.  The 
sounds  of  the  hoofs  of  the  hurrying  horses 
flying  by  our  cabin  on  their  way  to  the  town 
had  hardly  died  out  before  the  black  night 
closed  in  and  left  us  alone  on  that  wide, 
deserted  plain.  The  servants,  Mary  and  Ham, 
did  what  they  could  to  make  the  room  below- 
stairs  comfortable  by  stopping  the  cracks  and 


£2  The  Boy   General 

barricading  the  frail  door.  The  thirty-six 
hours  of  our  imprisonment  there  seems  now  a 
frightful  nightmare.  The  wind  grew  higher 
and  higher,  and  shrieked  about  the  little  house 
dismally.  It  was  built  without  a  foundation, 
and  was  so  rickety  it  seemed  as  it  rocked  in  a 
great  gust  of  wind  that  it  surely  would  be  un 
roofed  or  overturned.  The  General  was  too 
ill  for  me  to  venture  to  find  my  usual  comfort 
from  his  reassuring  voice.  I  dressed  in  my 
heaviest  gown  and  jacket,  and  remained  under 
the  blankets  as  much  as  I  could  to  keep  warm. 
Occasionally  I  crept  out  to  shake  off  the  snow 
from  the  counterpane.  I  hardly  dared  take 
the  little  phial  in  my  benumbed  fingers  to  drop 
the  precious  medicine  for  fear  it  would  fall.  I 
realized,  as  the  night  advanced,  that  we  were 
as  isolated  from  the  town,  and  even  the  camp, 
not  a  mile  distant,  as  if  we  had  been  on  an  isl 
and  in  the  river.  The  doctor  had  intended  to 
return  to  us,  but  his  serious  face  and  impres 
sive  injunctions  made  me  certain  that  he  con 
sidered  the  life  of  the  General  dependent  on 
the  medicine  being  regularly  given. 

During  the  night  I  was  startled  by  hearing 
a  dull  sound,  as  of  something  falling  heavily. 
Flying  down  the  stairs,  I  found  the  servants 
prying  open  the  frozen  and  snow-packed  door, 


An  April  Blizzard  93 

to  admit  a  half  dozen  soldiers  who,  becoming 
bewildered  by  the  snow,  had  been  saved  by 
the  faint  light  we  had  placed  in  the  window. 
After  that  several  came,  and  two  were  badly 
frozen.  We  were  in  despair  of  finding  any 
way  of  warming  them,  as  there  was  no  bedding, 
and,  of  course,  no  fire,  until  I  remembered  the 
carpets  which  were  sewed  up  in  bundles  and 
heaped  in  one  corner,  where  the  boxes  were, 
and  which  we  were  not  to  use  until  the  gar 
rison  was  reached.  Spreading  them  out,  we 
had  enough  to  roll  up  each  wanderer  as  he 
came.  The  frozen  men  were  in  so  exhausted 
a  condition  that  they  required  immediate  at 
tention.  Their  sufferings  were  intense,  and  I 
could  not  forgive  myself  for  not  having  some 
thing  with  which  to  revive  them.  The  Gen 
eral  never  tasted  liquor,  and  we  were  both  so 
well  always  we  did  not  even  keep  it  for  use 
in  case  of  sickness. 

I  saw  symptoms  of  that  deadly  stupor  which 
is  the  sure  precursor  of  freezing,  when  I  re 
membered  a  bottle  of  alcohol  which  had  been 
brought  for  the  spirit-lamps.  Mary  hated  to 
use  the  only  means  by  which  we  could  make 
coffee  for  ourselves,  but  the  groans  and  hag. 
gard  faces  of  the  men  won  her  over,  and  we 
saw  them  revive  under  the  influence  of  the  fiery 


94  The  Boy  General 

liquid.  Poor  fellows!  They  afterward  lost 
their  feet,  and  some  of  their  fingers  had  also 
to  be  amputated.  The  first  soldier  who  had 
reached  us  explained  that  they  had  all  attempt 
ed  to  find  their  way  to  town,  and  the  storm 
had  completely  overcome  them.  Fortunately 
one  had  clung  to  a  bag  of  hard-tack,  which 
was  all  they  had  had  to  eat. 

At  last  the  day  came,  but  so  darkened  by  the 
snow  it  seemed  rather  a  twilight.  The  drifts 
were  on  three  sides  of  us  like  a  wall.  The  long 
hours  dragged  themselves  away,  leaving  the 
General  too  weak  to  rise,  and  in  great  need  of 
hot,  nourishing  food.  I  grew  more  and  more 
terrified  at  our  utterly  desolate  condition  and 
his  continued  illness.  He  was  too  ill,  and  I  too 
anxious,  to  eat  the  fragments  that  remained  in 
the  luncheon-basket.  The  snow  continued  to 
come  down  in  great  swirling  sheets,  while  the 
wind  shook  the  loose  window-casings  and  some 
times  broke  in  the  door.  When  night  came 
again  and  the  cold  increased,  I  believed  that  our 
hours  were  numbered.  I  missed  the  voice  of 
the  courageous  Mary,  for  she  had  sunk  down 
in  a  corner  exhausted  for  want  of  sleep,  while 
Ham  had  been  completely  demoralized  from 
the  first.  Occasionally  I  melted  a  little  place 
on  the  frozen  window-pane,  and  saw  that  the 


An  April  Blizzard  95 

drifts  were  almost  level  with  the  upper  win 
dows  on  either  side,  but  that  the  wind  had 
swept  a  clear  space  before  the  door.  During 
the  night  the  sound  of  the  tramping  of  many 
feet  rose  above  the  roar  of  the  storm.  A  great 
drove  of  mules  rushed  up  to  the  sheltered  side 
of  the  house.  Their  brays  had  a  sound  of  ter 
ror  as  they  pushed,  kicked,  and  crowded  them 
selves  against  our  little  cabin.  For  a  time 
they  huddled  together,  hoping  for  warmth, 
and  then  despairing,  they  made  a  mad  rush 
away,  and  were  soon  lost  in  the  white  wall  of 
snow  beyond.  All  night  long  the  neigh  of  a 
distressed  horse,  almost  human  in  its  appeal, 
came  to  us  at  intervals.  The  door  was  pried 
open  once,  thinking  it  might  be  some  suffering 
fellow-creature  in  distress.  The  strange,  wild 
eyes  of  the  horse  peering  in  for  help,  haunted 
me  long  afterward.  Occasionally  a  lost  dog 
lifted  up  a  howl  of  distress  under  our  window. 
When  the  night  was  nearly  spent  I  sprang 
again  to  the  window  with  a  new  horror,  for  no 
one,  until  he  hears  it  for  himself,  can  realize 
what  varied  sounds  animals  make  in  the  ex 
citement  of  peril.  A  drove  of  hogs,  squealing 
and  grunting,  were  pushing  against  the  house, 
and  the  door,  which  had  withstood  so  much, 
had  to  be  held  to  keep  it  from  being  broken  in. 


96  The  Boy  General 

It  was  almost  unbearable  to  hear  the  groans 
of  the  soldiers  over  their  swollen  and  painful 
feet,  and  know  that  we  could  do  nothing  to 
ease  them.  Every  minute  seemed  a  day ; 
every  hour  a  year.  When  daylight  came  I 
dropped  into  an  exhausted  slumber,  and  was 
awakened  by  Mary  standing  over  our  bed  with 
a  tray  of  hot  breakfast.  I  asked  if  help  had 
come,  and  finding  it  had  not,  of  course,  I  could 
not  understand  the  smoking  food.  She  told 
me  that  feeling  the  necessity  of  the  General's 
eating,  it  had  come  to  her  in  the  night-watch 
es  that  she  would  cut  up  the  large  candles  she 
had  brought  along,  and  try  if  she  could  cook 
over  the  many  short  pieces  placed  close  to 
gether,  so  as  to  make  a  large  flame.  The  re 
sult  was  hot  coffee  and  some  bits  of  the  steak 
she  had  brought  from  town,  fried  with  a  few 
slices  of  potatoes. 

The  breakfast  revived  the  General  so  much 
that  he  began  to  make  light  of  danger.  The 
snow  had  ceased  to  fall,  but  for  all  that  it 
still  seemed  that  we  were  castaways,  hidden 
under  the  drifts  that  nearly  surrounded  us. 
Help  was  near  at  hand,  however,  at  even  this 
darkest  hour.  A  knock  at  the  door,  and  the 
cheery  voices  of  men  came  up  to  our  ears. 
Some  citizens  of  Yankton  had  found  their  way 


An  April  Blizzard  97 

to  our  relief,  and  the  officers,  who  neither  knew 
the  way  nor  how  to  travel  over  such  a  country, 
had  gladly  followed.  They  told  us  that  they 
had  made  several  attempts  to  get  to  us,  but  the 
snow  was  so  soft  and  light  that  they  could 
make  no  headway.  They  floundered  and  sank 
down  almost  out  of  sight,  even  in  the  streets 
of  the  town.  Of  course  no  horse  could  travel, 
but  they  told  me  of  their  intense  anxiety,  and 
said  that,  fearing  I  might  be  in  need  of  immedi 
ate  help,  they  had  dragged  a  cutter  over  the 
drifts,  which  now  had  a  crust  of  ice  formed 
from  the  sleet  and  the  moisture  of  the  damp 
night-air.  Of  course  I  declined  to  go  without 
the  General,  but  I  was  deeply  touched  by  their 
thought  of  me.  I  made  some  excuse  to  go 
upstairs,  where,  with  my  head  buried  in  the 
shawl  partition,  I  tried  to  smother  the  sobs 
that  had  been  suppressed  during  the  terrors  of 
our  desolation.  Here  the  General  found  me, 
and  though  comforting  me  by  tender  words, 
he  still  reminded  me  that  he  would  not  like 
any  one  to  know  that  I  had  lost  my  pluck 
when  all  the  danger  I  had  passed  through  was 
ended. 


98  The  Boy  General 


CHAPTER  XI 

ON  TO   FORT   LINCOLN 

WHEN  the  day  came  for  us  to  begin  our 
march,  the  sun  shone  and  the  towns-people 
wished  us  good-luck  with  their  good-by. 

The  length  of  each  day's  march  varied  ac 
cording  to  the  streams  on  which  we  relied  for 
water,  or  the  arrival  of  the  boat.  The  steamer 
that  carried  the  forage  for  the  horses  and  the 
supplies  for  the  command,  was  tied  up  to  the 
river-bank  every  night,  as  near  to  us  as  was 
possible.  The  laundresses  and  ladies  of  the 
regiment  were  on  board,  except  the  General's 
sister,  Margaret,  who  made  her  first  march 
with  her  husband,  riding  all  the  way  on  horse 
back.  As  usual,  I  rode  beside  the  General. 
Our  first  few  days  were  pleasant,  and  we  began 
at  once  to  enjoy  the  plover.  The  land  was  so 
covered  with  them  that  the  hunters  shot  them 
with  all  sorts  of  arms.  We  counted  eighty 
birds  in  the  gunny-sack  that  three  of  the  sol 
diers  brought  in.  Fortunately  there  were  sev 
eral  shot-guns  in  the  possession  of  our  family, 
and  the  little  things,  therefore,  were  not  torn 


On  to  Fort  Lincoln  99 

to  pieces,  but  could  be  broiled  over  the  coals 
of  the  camp-fire.  They  were  so  plump  that 
their  legs  were  like  tiny  points  coming  from 
beneath  the  rounded  outline  that  swept  the 
grass  as  they  walked.  No  butter  was  needed 
in  cooking  them,  for  they  were  very  fat.  How 
good  the  plover  and  sandwiches  tasted,  while 
we  quenched  our  thirst  with  cold  coffee  or  tea ! 
Since  we  were  named  "  The  Great  Grab  Mess," 
we  all  dared  to  reach  over  and  help  ourselves, 
and  the  one  most  agile  and  with  the  longest 
arms  was  the  best  fed. 

No  great  ceremony  is  to  be  expected  when 
one  rises  before  four,  and  takes  a  hurried  break 
fast  by  the  light  of  a  tallow-candle;  the  sol 
diers  waiting  outside  to  take  down  the  tent,  the 
servants  hastily  and  suggestively  rattling  the 
kettles  and  gridiron  as  they  packed  them, 
made  it  an  irresistible  temptation  for  one  hun 
gry  to  "  grab." 

We  had  a  very  satisfactory  little  cook-stove. 
It  began  its  career  with  legs,  but  the  wind  used 
to  lift  it  up  from  the  ground  with  such  violence 
it  was  finally  dismembered,  and  afterward 
placed  flat  on  the  ground.  Being  of  sheet-iron 
it  cooled  quickly,  was  very  light,  and  could  be 
put  in  the  wagon  in  a  few  moments  after  the 
morning  meal  was  cooked.  When  we  came 


ioo  The  Boy  General 

out  from  breakfast  the  wagon  stood  near,  partly 
packed,  and  bristling  with  kitchen  utensils ; 
buckets  and  baskets  tied  outside  the  cover,  axe 
and  spade  lashed  to  the  side,  while  the  little 
stove  looked  out  from  the  end.  The  mess-chest 
stood  open  on  the  ground  to  receive  the  dishes 
we  had  used.  At  a  given  signal  the  dining- 
tent  went  down  with  all  those  along  the  line, 
and  they  were  stowed  away  in  the  wagons  in 
an  incredibly  short  time.  The  wagon-train 
then  drew  out  and  formed  in  order  at  the  rear 
of  the  column. 

At  the  bugle-call,  "  Boots  and  Saddles,"  each 
soldier  mounted  and  took  his  place  in  line, 
all  riding  two  abreast.  First  came  the  General 
and  his  staff,  with  whom  Sister  Margaret  and  I 
were  permitted  to  ride ;  the  private  orderlies 
and  head-quarters  detail  rode  in  our  rear ;  and 
then  came  the  companies  according  to  the 
places  assigned  them  for  the  day  ;  finally  the 
wagon-train,  with  the  rear-guard0  We  made  a 
long  cavalcade  that  stretched  over  a  great  dis 
tance.  When  we  reached  some  high  bluff  we 
never  tired  of  watching  the  command  advanc 
ing,  with  the  long  line  of  supply  wagons,  with 
their  white  covers,  winding  around  bends  in  the 
road  and  climbing  over  the  hills.  Every  day 
the  breaking  of  camp  went  more  smoothly  and 


On  to  Fort  Lincoln  lot 

quickly,  until,  as  the  days  advanced,  the  General 
used  to  call  me  to  his  side  to  notice  by  his 
watch  how  few  moments  it  took  after  the  tents 
were  ordered  down  to  set  the  whole  machinery 
for  the  march  in  motion ;  and  I  remember  the 
regiment  grew  so  skilful  in  preparation  that  in 
one  campaign  the  hour  for  starting  never  varied 
five  minutes  during  the  whole  summer. 

The  column  was  always  halted  once  during 
the  day's  march  to  water  the  horses,  then  the 
luncheons  were  brought  forth. 

When  the  stream  was  narrow,  and  the  hun 
dreds  of  horses  had  to  be  ranged  along  its 
banks  to  be  watered,  there  was  time  for  a  nap. 
I  soon  acquired  the  General's  habit  of  sleeping 
readily.  He  would  throw  himself  down  any 
where  and  fall  asleep  instantly,  even  with  the  sun 
beating  on  his  head.  It  only  takes  a  little  train 
ing  to  learn  to  sleep  without  a  pillow  on  un 
even  ground  and  without  shade.  I  learned,  the 
moment  I  was  helped  out  of  the  saddle,  to  drop 
upon  the  grass  and  lose  myself  in  a  twinkling. 
I  think  I  never  got  quite  over  wishing  for  the 
shade  of  a  tree  ;  but  there  was  often  a  little 
strip  of  shadow  on  one  side  of  the  travelling 
wagon,  which  was  always  near  us  on  the  jour 
ney.  I  was  not  above  selfishly  appropriating 
the  space  under  the  wagon,  if  it  had  not  been 


102  The  Boy  General 

taken  by  somebody  else.  Even  then  I  had  to 
dislodge  a  whole  collection  of  dogs,  who  soon 
find  the  best  places  for  their  comfort. 

We  had  a  citizen-guide  with  us,  who,  having 
been  long  in  the  country,  knew  the  streams,  and 
the  General  and  I,  following  his  instructions, 
often  rode  in  advance  as  we  neared  the  night's 
camp.  It  was  always  a  mild  excitement  and 
new  pleasure  to  select  camp.  The  General  de 
lighted  to  unsaddle  his  favorite  horse,  Dandy, 
and  turn  him  loose,  for  his  attachment  was  so 
strong  he  never  grazed  far  from  us.  He  was 
not  even  tethered,  and  after  giving  himself  the 
luxury  of  a  roll  in  the  grass,  he  ate  his  dinner 
of  oats,  and  browsed  about  the  tent,  as  tame  as  a 
kitten.  He  whinnied  when  my  husband  patted 
his  sleek  neck,  and  looked  jealously  at  the  dogs 
when  they  all  followed  us  into  the  tent. 

After  tramping  down  the  grass,  to  prevent 
the  fire  from  spreading,  my  husband  would 
carry  dry  sticks  and  underbrush,  and  place  them 
against  a  fallen  tree.  That  made  an  admirable 
back-log,  and  in  a  little  while  we  had  a  glorious 
fire,  the  General  having  a  peculiar  gift  of  start 
ing  a  flame  on  the  wildest  day.  The  next  thing 
was  to  throw  himself  down  on  the  sod,  cover 
his  eyes  with  his  white  felt  hat,  and  be  sound 
asleep  in  no  time.  The  dogs  came  at  once  to 


On  to  Fort  Lincoln  103 

lie  beside  him.  I  have  seen  them  stretched  at 
his  back  and  curled  around  his  head,  while  the 
nose  and  paws  of  one  rested  on  his  breast.  And 
yet  he  was  quite  unconscious  of  their  crowding. 
They  growled  and  scrambled  for  the  best  place, 
but  he  slept  placidly  through  it  all. 

When  the  command  arrived,  the  guidons 
pointed  out  the  location  for  each  company ;  the 
horses  were  unsaddled  and  picketed  out ;  the 
wagons  unloaded  and  the  tents  pitched.  The 
hewing  of  wood  and  the  hauling  of  water  came 
next,  and  after  the  cook-fires  were  lighted,  the 
air  was  full  of  savory  odors  of  the  soldiers'  din 
ner.  After  I  had  changed  my  riding-habit  for 
my  one  other  gown,  I  came  out  to  join  the  Gen 
eral  under  the  tent-fly,  where  he  lay  alternately 
watching  the  scene  and  reading  one  of  his  well- 
thumbed  books.  I  always  had  sewing — either 
a  bit  of  needle-work  that  was  destined  to  make 
our  garrison  quarters  more  attractive,  or  more 
often,  some  necessary  stitches  to  take  in  our 
hard-worn  clothes.  As  we  sat  there  it  would 
have  been  difficult  for  a  stranger  to  believe  that 
it  was  merely  the  home  of  a  day. 

Our  camps  along  the  river  were  much  alike, 
and  each  day  when  we  entered  the  tent  our  few 
things  were  placed  exactly  as  they  were  the  day 
before.  The  only  articles  of  furniture  we  had 


IO4  The  Boy  General 

with  us  were  two  folding-chairs,  a  bed,  a  wash 
bowl,  with  bucket  and  tin  dipper,  and  a  little 
mirror.  This  last,  fastened  to  the  tent-pole, 
swayed  to  and  fro  with  the  never-ceasing  wind, 
and  made  it  a  superfluous  luxury,  for  we  learned 
to  dress  without  it.  The  camp-chairs  were  a 
great  comfort;  they  were  made  by  a  soldier  out 
of  oak,  with  leather  backs,  seats,  and  arms,  the 
latter  so  arranged  with  straps  and  buckles  that 
one  could  recline  or  sit  upright  at  will. 

An  ineffaceable  picture  remains  with  me  even 
now  of  those  lovely  camps,  as  we  dreamily 
watched  them  by  the  fading  light  of  the  after 
noon.  The  General  and  I  used  to  think  there 
was  no  bit  of  color  equal  to  the  delicate  blue 
line  of  smoke  which  rose  from  the  camp-fire, 
where  the  soldiers'  suppers  were  being  cooked. 
The  effect  of  light  and  shade,  and  the  varying 
tints  of  that  perfect  sky,  were  a  great  delight  to 
him.  The  mellow  air  brought  us  sounds  that 
had  become  dear  by  long  and  happy  association 
— the  low  notes  of  the  bugle  in  the  hands  of  the 
musician  practising  the  calls ;  the  click  of  the 
currycomb  as  the  soldiers  groomed  their  horses ; 
the  whistle  or  song  of  a  happy  trooper.  And 
even  the  irrepressible  accordeon  at  that  dis 
tance  made  a  melody.  It  used  to  amuse  us  to 
find  with  what  persistent  ingenuity  the  soldiers 


On  to  Fort  Lincoln  105 

smuggled  that  melancholy  instrument.  No 
matter  how  limited  the  transportation,  after  a 
few  days'  march  it  was  brought  out  from  a  roll 
of  blankets,  or  the  teamster  who  had  been 
bribed  to  keep  it  under  the  seat,  produced  the 
prized  possession.  The  bay  of  the  hounds  was 
always  music  to  the  General. 

Mingling  with  the  melodies  of  the  negro  ser 
vants,  as  they  swung  the  blacking-brushes  at  the 
rear  of  the  tents,  were  the  buoyant  voices  of  the 
officers  lying  under  the  tent-flies,  smoking  the 
consoling  pipe.  The  twilight  almost  always 
found  many  of  us  gathered  together,  some  idling 
on  the  grass  in  front  of  the  camp-fire,  or  loung 
ing  on  the  buffalo  robes.  The  one  with  the  best 
voice  sang,  while  all  joined  in  the  chorus. 

We  all  had  much  patience  in  listening  to 
what  must  necessarily  be  "  twice-told  tales,"  for 
it  would  have  taken  the  author  of  "  The  Ara 
bian  Nights  "  to  supply  fresh  anecdotes  for  peo 
ple  who  had  been  so  many  years  together. 
These  stories  usually  varied  somewhat  from 
time  to  time,  and  the  more  Munchausen-like 
they  became  the  more  attentive  was  the  audi 
ence. 

The  territories  are  settled  by  people  who  live 
an  intense,  exaggerated  sort  of  existence,  and 
nothing  tame  attracts  them.  In  order  to  com- 


io6  The  Boy  General 

pel  a  listener,  I  myself  fell  into  the  habit  of  add 
ing  a  cipher  or  two  to  stories  that  had  been  first 
told  in  the  States  with  moderate  numbers. 

The  teamsters  mess  together  on  the  march  as 
the  officers  do,  with  rarely  more  than  four  or 
five  in  the  circle.  One  of  the  number  buys  the 
supplies,  takes  charge  of  the  rations,  and  keeps 
the  accounts.  The  sum  of  expenses  is  divided 
at  the  end  of  the  month,  and  each  pays  his  por 
tion.  They  take  turns  in  doing  the  cooking, 
which,  being  necessarily  simple,  gives  each  a 
share  of  the  labor.  Sometimes  we  found  a 
more  ambitious  member  of  the  mess  endeavor 
ing  to  rise  superior  to  the  tiresome  hard-tack  ; 
he  had  bared  his  brawny  arms  and  was  mixing 
biscuit  on  the  tail-board  of  the  wagon,  letdown 
for  the  purpose.  He  whistled  away  as  he  mould 
ed  the  dough  with  his  horny  hands,  and  it  would 
have  seemed  that  he  had  a  Delmonico  supper 
to  anticipate. 

We  had  not  left  Yankton  far  behind  us  before 
we  were  surprised  to  see  one  of  its  most  hos 
pitable  citizens  drive  up ;  he  acknowledged 
that  he  had  missed  us,  and  described  the  tame- 
ness  of  life  after  the  departure  of  the  cavalry  as 
something  quite  past  endurance. 

The  weather  changed,  and  we  began  our 
march  with  a  dull,  gray  morning  and  stinging 


On  to  Fort  Lincoln  107 

cold.  The  General  wound  me  up  in  all  the  out 
side  wraps  I  had  until  I  was  a  shapeless  mass  of 
fur  and  wool  as  I  sat  in  the  saddle.  We  could 
talk  but  little  to  each  other,  for  the  wind  cut  our 
faces  and  stiffened  the  flesh  until  it  ached.  My 
hands  became  too  numb  to  hold  my  horse,  so  I 
gave  him  his  own  way.  As  we  rode  along  like 
automatons,  I  was  keeping  my  spirits  up  with 
the  thought  of  the  camp  we  should  make  in  the 
underbrush  of  a  sheltered  valley  by  some  stream, 
and  the  coming  camp-fire  rose  brightly  in  my 
imagination.  We  went  slowly,  as  the  usual  time 
a  cavalry  command  makes  is  barely  four  miles 
an  hour.  It  was  a  discouraging  spot  where  we 
finally  halted ;  it  was  on  a  stream,  but  the  ice 
was  thick  along  the  edges,  and  all  we  could  see 
was  the  opposite  bank,  about  thirty  feet  high, 
so  frozen  over  that  it  looked  like  a  wall  of  solid 
ice.  It  was  difficult  to  pitch  the  tent,  for  the 
wind  twisted  and  tore  the  canvas ;  the  ground 
was  already  so  frozen  that  it  took  a  long  time 
to  drive  in  the  iron  pins  by  which  the  ropes 
holding  the  tents  are  secured.  All  the  tying 
and  pinning  of  the  opening  was  of  little  avail, 
for  the  wind  twisted  off  the  tapes  and  flung  the 
great  brass  pins  I  had  brought  on  purpose  for 
canvas  far  and  wide. 

No  camp-fire  would  burn,  of  course,  in  such 


io8  The  Boy  General 

a  gale,  but  I  remembered  thankfully  the  Sibley 
stove  that  we  always  carried.  The  saddler  had 
cut  a  hole  in  the  roof  of  the  tent  for  the  pipe, 
and  fastened  zinc  around  it  to  make  it  safe  from 
fire.  I  shall  never  think  about  a  Sibley  stove 
without  gratitude,  nor  cease  to  wonder  how  so 
simple  an  invention  can  be  the  means  of  such 
comfort.  It  is  only  a  cone  of  sheet-iron,  open 
at  the  top  and  bottom ;  the  broader  part  rests 
on  the  ground,  while  the  little  pipe  fits  on  the 
top.  The  wood  is  put  through  a  door  cut 
in  the  side;  only  billets  can  be  used,  for  the 
door  is  small.  It  requires  almost  constant  at 
tention  to  keep  the  insatiable  little  thing  filled. 
The  stove  is  so  light  that,  in  marching,  the  pipe 
is  removed  and  a  rope  run  through  the  open 
ings,  which  enables  it  to  be  tied  underneath  the 
wagon,  beside  the  bucket  which  is  always  sus 
pended  there  to  be  used  to  water  the  horses. 

The  General  was  busy  in  the  Adjutant's  tent, 
so  I  sent  for  the  sergeant,  who  was  our  facto 
tum,  and  asked  him  to  hunt  up  the  Sibley  stove, 
but  he  told  me  it  had  been  forgotten,  and  so  I 
crept  into  bed  to  keep  warm. 


Camping  Among  the  Sioux         109 


CHAPTER  XII 

CAMPING  AMONG  THE   SIOUX 

OUR  march  to  Fort  Lincoln  took  us  through 
the  grounds  set  apart  by  the  Government  for 
the  use  of  the  Sioux  Indians  at  peace  with  our 
country.  We  had  not  made  much  progress 
before  we  began  to  see  their  graves.  They  do 
not  bury  their  dead,  but  place  them  on  boards 
lashed  to  the  limbs  of  trees,  or  on  high  plat 
forms  raised  from  the  ground  by  four  poles  per 
haps  twenty  feet.  The  body  is  wound  round 
and  round  with  clothing  or  blankets,  like  a 
mummy,  and  inside  the  layers  are  placed  fire 
arms,  tobacco,  and  jerked  beef,  to  supply  them 
on  the  imaginary  journey  to  the  happy  hunt 
ing-grounds.  In  the  early  morning,  when  it 
was  not  quite  light,  as  we  filed  by  these  soli 
tary  sepulchres,  it  was  uncanny  and  weird,  and 
the  sun,  when  it  came,  was  doubly  welcome. 
Our  first  visitor  from  the  Agency  Indians  was 
Fool-Dog,  a  Sioux  chief.  He  was  tall,  com 
manding,  and  had  really  a  fine  face.  When  he 
was  ready  to  go  home  he  invited  us  to  come  to 
his  village  before  we  left  on  our  next  march. 


no  The  Boy   General 

At  twilight  my  husband  and  I  walked  over. 
The  village  was  a  collection  of  tepees  of  all 
sizes,  the  largest  being  what  is  called  the  Med 
icine  Lodge,  where  the  councils  are  held.  It 
was  formed  of  tanned  buffalo-hides,  sewed  to 
gether  with  buckskin  thongs,  and  stretched 
over  a  collection  of  thirty-six  poles.  These 
poles  are  of  great  value  to  the  Indians,  for  in  a 
sparsely  timbered  country  like  Dakota  it  is  dif 
ficult  to  find  suitable  trees.  It  is  necessary  to 
go  a  great  distance  to  procure  the  kind  of  sap 
ling  that  is  light  and  pliable  and  yet  sufficiently 
strong  for  the  purpose.  The  poles  are  lashed 
together  at  the  tops  and  radiate  in  a  circle  be 
low.  The  smoke  was  pouring  out  of  the  open 
ing  above,  and  the  only  entrance  to  the  tepee 
was  a  round  aperture  near  the  ground,  suffi 
ciently  large  to  allow  a  person  to  crawl  in. 
Around  the  lodge  were  poles  from  which  were 
suspended  rags ;  in  these  were  tied  their  medi 
cines  of  roots  and  herbs,  supposed  to  be  a 
charm  to  keep  off  evil  spirits.  The  sound  of 
music  came  from  within ;  I  crept  tremblingly 
in  after  the  General,  not  entirely  quieted  by  his 
keeping  my  hand  in  his,  and  whispering  some 
thing  to  calm  my  fears  as  I  sat  on  the  buffalo- 
robe  beside  him.  In  the  first  place,  I  knew  how 
resolute  the  Indians  were  in  never  admitting 


Camping  Among  the  Sioux        in 

one  of  their  own  women  to  council,  and  their 
curious  eyes  and  forbidding  expressions  toward 
me  did  not  add  to  my  comfort.  The  dust,  smoke, 
and  noise  in  the  fading  light  were  not  reassur 
ing.  Fool-Dog  arose  from  the  circle  of  what 
composed  their  nobility,  and  solemnly  shook 
hands  with  the  General ;  those  next  in  rank  fol 
lowed  his  example.  The  pipe  was  then  smoked, 
and  the  General  had  to  take  a  whiff  when  it 
came  his  turn.  Fortunately,  we  escaped  the 
speeches,  for  we  had  not  brought  an  interpreter. 

Most  of  the  country  passed  over  in  our  route 
belonged  to  the  Indian  Reservation,  and  the 
Government  wras  endeavoring  to  teach  the 
tribes  settled  there  to  cultivate  the  soil. 

As  we  approached  an  Indian  village  the 
chiefs  came  out  to  receive  us.  There  were 
many  high-sounding  words  of  welcome,  trans 
lated  by  our  guide,  who,  having  lived  among 
them  many  years,  knew  the  different  dialects. 
The  Government  had  built  some  comfortable 
log-houses  for  them,  in  many  of  which  I  would 
have  lived  gladly.  The  Indians  did  not  care 
for  them,  complaining  that  they  had  coughs  if 
they  occupied  a  house.  A  tepee  was  put  up 
alongside,  in  which  one  or  two  families  lived, 
while  little  low  lodges,  looking  like  the  sol 
diers'  shelter-tents,  were  used  for  the  young 


ii2  The  Boy  General 

men  to  sleep  in.  The  tools  and  stores  given 
by  the  Government  were  packed  away  in  the 
otherwise  empty  houses. 

A  Sioux  chief,  called  Two  Bears,  had  the 
most  picturesque  village  that  we  saw.  The 
lodges  were  placed  in  a  circle,  as  this  was 
judged  the  most  defensive  position  ;  the  ponies 
were  herded  inside  the  enclosure  at  night. 
This  precaution  was  necessary,  for  the  neigh 
boring  tribes  swept  down  on  them  after  dark 
and  ran  off  the  stock  if  they  were  not  secured. 
As  we  dismounted,  we  saw  an  old  man  stand 
ing  alone  in  the  circle,  apparently  unconscious 
of  everything,  as  he  recounted  some  war-tale, 
in  loud,  monotonous  tones.  He  had  no  listen 
ers — all  were  intently  watching  the  approach 
ing  regiment ;  still  the  venerable  Sioux  went 
on  as  persistently  as  if  he  were  looking  "  upon 
a  sea  of  upturned  faces."  He  was  the  "  medi 
cine-man,"  or  oracle,  of  the  tribe,  or  possibly 
the  "  poet-laureate  "  of  the  village,  for  the  guide 
told  us  he  sang  of  the  deeds  of  valor  of  his  peo 
ple  far  back  in  history. 

Just  outside  of  the  village  the  chiefs  sat  in 
a  circle  awaiting  us.  Two  Bears  arose  to 
welcome  the  General,  and  asked  him  to  go 
with  him  to  his  lodge.  I  was  asked  to  go  also 
and  be  presented  to  Miss  Two  Bears ;  for  she 


Camping  Among  the  Sioux         113 

was  too  royal  in  birth  to  be  permitted  outside, 
and  it  was  not  in  keeping  with  the  dignity  of 
her  rank  to  mingle  with  the  others,  the  guide 
afterward  explained  to  us. 

The  honor  of  going  alone  into  the  tepee  was 
one  that  I  could  have  foregone,  for  my  courage 
was  much  greater  if  I  did  my  Indian  sight 
seeing  surrounded  by  the  regiment.  The  Gen 
eral,  fearing  their  ideas  of  hospitality  might  be 
offended  if  I  declined  the  invitation,  whispered 
an  encouraging  word,  and  we  dipped  our 
heads  and  crept  into  the  tepee.  The  chief  was 
a  dignified  old  man,  wrapped  in  his  blanket, 
without  the  usual  addition  of  some  portion  of 
citizen's  dress  which  the  Indians  believe  adds 
to  their  grandeur.  His  daughter  also  was  in 
complete  squaw's  costume ;  her  feet  were 
moccasined,  her  legs  and  ankles  wound  round 
with  beaded  leggings,  and  she  had  on  the  one 
buckskin  garment  which  never  varies  in  cut 
through  all  the  tribes.  A  blanket  drawn  over 
her  head  was  belted  at  her  waist.  To  crown 
all  this,  however,  she  had  an  open  parasol, 
brought  to  her,  doubtless,  as  a  present  by 
some  Indian  returning  from  a  council  at 
Washington.  She  held  it  with  dignity,  as  if 
it  might  be  to  her  as  much  an  insignia  of  state 
as  the  mace  of  the  lord-mayor. 


1 14  The  Boy   General 

Fortunately,  they  did  not  ask  us  to  sit  down 
and  partake  of  jerked  beef,  or  to  smoke  the 
never-ending  pipe,  so  we  soon  got  through  our 
compliments  and  returned  to  the  outer  en 
trance  of  the  village. 

Here  the  tribe  was  assembled,  and  evidently 
attired  in  gala-dress  in  our  honor.  We  were 
most  interested  in  the  village  belle,  and  the 
placid  manner  in  which  she  permitted  us  to 
walk  around  her,  gazing  and  talking  her  good 
points  over,  showed  that  she  expected  homage. 
She  sat  on  a  scarlet  blanket  spread  on  the 
ground,  and  over  her,  stretched  from  poles, 
was  another  for  an  awning.  She  was  loaded 
with  ornaments,  row  after  row  of  beads  about 
her  neck,  broad  armlets  and  anklets  of  brass, 
pinchbeck  rings,  and  a  soft  buckskin  dress  and 
leggings,  heavily  embroidered.  Her  ears  were 
pierced  twice — on  the  side  as  well  as  in  the 
lobe — and  from  these  holes  were  suspended 
circles  of  gilt.  Her  bright  eyes,  the  satin 
smoothness  of  her  hair,  and  the  clear  brown 
of  the  skin  made  a  pretty  picture.  There  was 
no  attempt  to  blend  into  the  brown  the  bright 
patch  of  carmine  on  each  cheek. 

Only  extreme  youth  and  its  ever  attractive 
charms  can  make  one  forget  the  heavy  square 
shape  of  Indian  faces  and  their  coarse  features. 


Camping  Among  the  Sioux         115 

It  was  surprising  to  see  all  the  other  squaws 
giving  up  the  field  to  this  one  so  completely. 
They  crouched  near,  with  a  sort  of  "  every-dog- 
must-have-its-day  "  look,  and  did  not  even  dis 
pute  her  sway  by  making  coy  eyes  as  we  spoke 
to  them. 

There  were  but  few  young  men.  Their  ab 
sence  was  always  excused  by  the  same  reason 
—they  were  out  hunting.  We  knew  how  little 
game  there  was,  and  surmised — what  we  after 
ward  found  to  be  true — that  they  had  joined 
the  hostile  tribes,  and  only  came  in  to  the  dis 
tribution  of  supplies  and  presents  in  the  fall. 
A  few  rods  from  the  village  a  tripod  of  poles 
was  set  in  the  ground,  and  lashed  to  it  the 
Indian's  shield,  made  of  the  hide  of  the  buffalo 
where  it  is  thickest  about  the  neck.  There 
were  rude  paintings  and  Indian  hieroglyphics 
covering  it.  The  shield  is  an  heirloom  with 
the  Indian,  and  the  one  selected  to  hang  out 
in  this  manner  has  always  the  greatest  war 
record.  One  of  their  superstitions  is  that  it 
keeps  away  enemies.  These  nomads  had  some 
idea  of  luxury,  for  I  recollect  seeing  some  of 
them  reclining  on  a  kind  of  rest  made  of  a 
framework  of  pliable  rods,  over  which  was 
stretched  buckskin. 

When  we  had  reached  camp  and  were  tak- 


1 1 6  The  Boy   General 

ing  our  afternoon  siesta  the  same  day,  with  the 
tent  walls  raised  for  air,  we  were  roused  by  the 
sound  of  music.  Looking  off  over  the  bluffs 
we  saw  a  large  body  of  Indians  approaching  on 
ponies,  while  squaws  and  children  ran  beside 
them.  It  was  the  prompt  response  of  Two 
Bears  to  the  General's  invitation  to  return  his 
call.  The  warriors  stopped  near  camp,  and  dis 
mounting,  advanced  toward  us.  The  squaws 
unbridled  and  picketed  the  ponies,  and  made 
themselves  comfortable  by  arranging  shades 
of  the  bright  blankets.  They  staked  down  two 
corners  closely  to  the  ground,  and  propped  up 
the  others  with  poles  stuck  in  the  sod. 

When  the  Indians  came  up  to  us,  the  council 
was,  as  usual,  begun.  The  pipe  being  smoked, 
Two  Bears  gave  us  a  eulogy  of  himself.  He 
then  demanded,  in  behalf  of  the  tribe,  payment 
for  the  use  of  the  ground  on  which  we  were 
encamped,  and  also  for  the  grass  consumed, 
though  it  was  too  short  to  get  more  than  an 
occasional  tuft.  He  ended,  as  they  all  do,  with 
a  request  for  food.  The  General,  in  reply, 
vaguely  referred  them  to  the  Great  Father  in 
payment  for  the  use  of  their  land,  but  pre 
sented  them  with  a  beef  in  return  for  their 
hospitality.  Only  half-satisfied,  they  stalked 
away  one  by  one,  We  watched  them  at  a 


Camping  Among  the  Sioux         117 

distance  kill  and  divide  the  beef.  It  surprised 
us  to  see  how  they  despatched  it,  and  that 
hardly  a  vestige  of  it  was  left. 

The  interpreter  kept  constantly  before  us 
the  fine  post  that  we  were  approaching,  and 
the  last  day  before  we  reached  there  it  was 
visible  for  a  long  distance.  The  atmosphere 
of  Dakota  was  so  deceptive  that  we  imagined 
ourselves  within  a  few  miles  of  the  garrison, 
when,  in  reality,  there  was  a  march  of  twenty- 
nine  long  miles  before  us. 

Our  road  led  up  from  the  river  valley  on  the 
high  bluffs,  and  sometimes  followed  along  the 
backbone  of  hills  from  which  on  either  side 
we  looked  down  a  great  distance.  There  was 
barely  room  for  the  travelling-wagon.  Occa 
sionally  I  had  been  obliged  to  take  refuge  from 
the  cold  for  a  little  while  and  drive.  Our  lead- 
mules  were  tiny,  quick-moving  little  dots,  and 
I  soon  discovered  that  they  were  completely 
demoralized  at  the  sight  of  an  Indian.  They 
could  see  one  in  advance  long  before  the  driv 
er  could.  A  sudden  shying  and  quick  turning 
of  these  agile  little  brutes,  a  general  tangle 
of  themselves  in  the  harness  and  legs  of  the 
wheelers,  loud  shouts  of  the  driver,  and  a  quick 
downfall  of  his  foot  on  the  brake,  to  keep  us 
from  overturning,  made  an  exciting  confusion. 


tiS  The  Boy  General 

Nothing  would  get  them  righted  and  started 
again.  They  would  have  to  be  unharnessed, 
and  the  rebellious  pair  tied  to  the  rear  of  the 
wagon  until  we  had  gone  far  beyond  the  object 
of  terror.  Part  of  the  day  that  we  were  follow 
ing  the  road  alongside  hills  and  over  the  nar 
row,  smooth  level  of  the  hill-tops,  I  was  com 
pelled  to  drive,  and  I  watched  anxiously  the 
ears  of  these  wretched  little  beasts  to  see  if  they 
expressed  any  sentiment  of  fright.  We  came 
to  such  steep  descents  that  the  brake  holding 
the  wheels  seemed  of  no  use.  Looking  down 
from  the  wagon  on  to  the  mules  below  us,  we 
appeared  to  be  in  the  position  of  flies  on  a 
wall. 

As  we  came  to  one  descent  more  awful  than 
the  rest,  the  General,  who  was  always  near, 
rode  up  to  the  carriage  and  told  me  not  to  be 
afraid,  for  he  would  order  the  wheels  manned. 
Over  a  hundred  men,  dismounting,  attached 
ropes  to  the  wheels,  and  held  on  with  all  their 
strength  while  I  went  down  the  steepest  de 
clivity  I  had  ever  descended.  After  that  I 
begged  to  get  out,  and  the  General  carried 
me  to  a  bank  and  set  me  down  where  I  could 
watch  the  repairing  of  the  road. 

He  took  off  his  coat  and  joined  the  soldiers 
in  carrying  logs  and  shovelling  earth,  for  they 


Adventures  During  the  March     119 

were  obliged  to  fill  up  the  soft  bed  of  the 
stream  before  the  command  could  cross.  It 
took  a  long  time  and  much  patience  ;  but  the 
General  enjoyed  it.  When  the  logs  were  all 
laid,  I  had  to  laugh  at  the  energy  he  showed  in 
cracking  a  whip  he  borrowed  from  a  teamster, 
and  shouting  to  the  mules  to  urge  them  to  pull 
through  where  there  was  danger  of  their  stall 
ing.  When  the  road  was  completed,  the  sol 
diers  again  manned  the  wheels  to  prevent  the 
carriage  sliding  back,  the  mules  scrambled,  and 
with  the  aid  of  language  prepared  expressly 
for  them,  we  reached  the  summit. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

ADVENTURES  DURING  THE  MARCH 

MY  husband  and  I  kept  up  our  little  side- 
trips  by  ourselves  as  we  neared  the  hour  for 
camping  each  day.  One  day  one  of  the  offi 
cers  accompanied  us.  We  left  the  higher 
ground  to  go  down  by  the  water  and  have  the 
luxury  of  wandering  through  the  cottonwood- 
trees  that  sometimes  fringed  the  river  for  sev 
eral  miles.  As  usual,  we  had  a  number  of 
dogs  leaping  and  racing  around  us.  Two  of 


1 20  The  Boy  General 

them  started  a  deer,  and  the  General  bounded 
after  them,  encouraging  the  others  with  his 
voice  to  follow.  He  had  left  his  friend  with 
me,  and  we  rode  leisurely  along  to  see  that 
the  younger  dogs  did  not  get  lost.  Without 
the  least  warning,  in  the  dead  stillness  of  that 
desolate  spot,  we  suddenly  came  upon  a  group 
of  young  Indian  warriors  seated  in  their  mo 
tionless  way  in  the  underbrush.  I  became 
perfectly  cold  and  numb  with  terror.  My 
danger  in  connection  with  the  Indians  was 
twofold.  I  was  in  peril  from  death  or  capture 
by  the  savages,  and  liable  to  be  killed  by  my 
own  friends  to  prevent  my  capture.  During 
the  five  years  I  had  been  with  the  regiment  in 
Kansas,  I  had  marched  many  hundred  miles. 
Sometimes  I  had  to  join  my  husband  going 
across  a  dangerous  country,  and  the  exposure 
from  Indians  all  those  years  had  been  constant. 
I  had  been  a  subject  of  conversation  among 
the  officers,  being  the  only  woman  who,  as  a 
rule,  followed  the  regiment,  and  without  dis 
cussing  it  much  in  my  presence,  the  universal 
understanding  was  that  any  one  having  me  in 
charge  in  an  emergency  where  there  was  im 
minent  danger  of  my  capture,  should  shoot 
me  instantly.  While  I  knew  that  I  was  de 
fended  by  strong  hands  and  brave  hearts,  the 


Adventures  During  the  March     121 

thought  of  the  double  danger  always  flashed 
into  my  mind  when  we  were  in  jeopardy. 

If  time  could  have  been  measured  by  sensa 
tions,  a  cycle  seemed  to  have  passed  in  those 
few  seconds.  The  Indians  snatched  up  their 
guns,  leaped  upon  their  ponies,  and  prepared 
for  attack.  The  officer  with  me  was  perfectly 
calm,  spoke  to  them  coolly  without  a  change  of 
voice,  and  rode  quickly  beside  me,  telling  me 
to  advance.  My  horse  reared  violently  at  first 
sight  of  the  Indians,  and  started  to  run.  Gladly 
would  I  have  put  him  to  his  mettle  then,  except 
for  the  instinct  of  obedience,  which  any  one  fol 
lowing  a  regiment  acquires  in  all  that  pertains 
to  military  directions.  The  General  was  just 
visible  ascending  a  bluff  beyond.  To  avoid 
showing  fear  when  every  nerve  is  strung  to  its 
utmost  and  your  heart  leaps  into  your  throat, 
requires  superhuman  effort.  I  managed  to 
check  my  horse  and  did  not  scream.  No 
amount  of  telling  over  to  myself  what  I  had 
been  told,  that  all  the  tribes  on  this  side  were 
peaceable  and  that  only  those  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river  were  warlike,  could  quell  the  throb 
bing  of  my  pulses.  Indians  were  Indians  to 
me,  and  I  knew  well  that  it  was  a  matter  of  no 
time  to  cross  and  recross  on  their  little  tub-like 
boats  that  shoot  madly  down  the  current. 


122  The  Boy  General 

What  made  me  sure  that  these  warriors 
whom  we  had  just  met  were  from  the  fighting 
bands  was  the  recollection  of  some  significant 
signs  we  had  come  upon  in  the  road  a  few  days 
previous.  Stakes  had  been  set  in  the  ground, 
with  bits  of  red  flannel  fastened  on  them.  This, 
the  guide  explained,  meant  warnings  from  the 
tribes  at  war  to  frighten  us  from  any  farther 
advance  into  their  country.  Whether  because 
of  the  coolness  of  the  officer,  or  because  the 
warriors  knew  of  the  size  of  the  advancing 
column,  we  were  allowed  to  proceed  unharmed. 
How  interminable  the  distance  seemed  to  where 
the  General  awaited  us,  unconscious  of  what  we 
had  encountered !  I  was  lifted  out  of  the  sad 
dle  a  very  limp  and  unconscious  thing. 

Encouraged  by  references  to  other  dangers  I 
had  lived  through  without  flinching,  I  mounted 
again  and  followed  the  leader  closely.  He  took 
us  through  some  rough  country,  where  the  am 
bitious  horses,  finding  that  by  bending  their 
heads  they  could  squeeze  through,  forgot  to  seek 
openings  high  enough  to  admit  those  sitting  in 
the  saddle.  We  crashed  through  underbrush, 
and  I,  with  habit  torn  and  hands  scratched,  was 
sometimes  almost  lifted  up,  Absalom-like,  by 
the  resisting  branches.  Often  we  had  no  path, 
and  the  General's  horse,  "  Vic,"  would  start 


Adventures  During  ttie  March     123 

straight  up  steep  banks  after  we  had  forded 
streams.  It  never  occurred  to  his  rider,  until 
after  the  ascent  was  made,  and  a  faint  voice 
arose  from  the  valley,  that  all  horses  would  not 
do  willingly  what  his  thoroughbred  did.  He 
finally  turned  to  look  back  and  tell  me  how  to 
manage  my  horse.  I  abandoned  the  bridle 
when  we  came  to  those  ascents,  and  wound 
my  hands  in  the  horse's  mane  to  keep  from 
sliding  entirely  off,  while  the  animal  took  his 
own  way.  All  this  was  such  variety  and  ex 
citement  that  I  forgot  my  terror. 

We  found  a  bit  of  lovely  road,  which  only 
those  who  go  hundreds  of  miles  under  a  blazing 
sun  can  appreciate  fully.  The  sunshine  came 
flickering  down  through  the  branches  of  the 
trees  and  covered  the  short  grass  with  check 
ered  light  and  shade.  Here  we  dawdled,  and 
enjoyed  looking  up  at  the  patches  of  blue  sky 
through  great  grown-up  tree-tops.  It  was  like 
a  bit  of  woods  at  home,  where  I  never  thought 
to  be  grateful  for  foliage,  but  took  it  as  a  mat 
ter  of  course.  My  husband  remembered  my 
having  put  some  biscuit  in  the  leather  pocket 
on  my  saddle,  and  invited  himself  to  luncheon 
at  once.  We  dismounted,  and  threw  ourselves 
on  the  ground  to  eat  the  very  frugal  fare. 

After  resting,  we  gave  ourselves  the  privilege 


124  The  Boy  General 

of  a  swift  gallop  over  the  stretch  of  smooth 
ground  before  us.  We  were  laughing  and 
talking  so  busily  I  never  noticed  the  surround 
ings  until  I  found  we  were  almost  in  the  midst 
of  an  Indian  village,  quite  hidden  under  a  bluff. 
My  heart  literally  stood  still.  I  watched  the 
General  furtively.  He  was,  as  usual,  perfectly 
unmoved.  There  were  but  few  occupants  of 
the  village,  but  they  glowered  and  growled, 
and  I  could  see  the  venomous  glances  they  cast 
on  us  as  I  meekly  followed.  I  trembled  so  I 
could  barely  keep  my  seat  as  we  slowly  ad 
vanced,  for  the  General  even  slackened  his 
speed,  to  demonstrate  to  them,  I  suppose,  that 
we  felt  ourselves  perfectly  at  home.  He  said 
"  How,"  of  course,  which  was  his  usual  saluta 
tion  to  them.  An  echoing  "  How  "  beside  him 
proved  that  I  still  had  power  of  utterance. 
When  we  came  to  one  Indian,  who  looked 
menacingly  at  us  and  doggedly  stood  in  our 
road,  the  officer  with  us  declared  that  I  ac 
companied  my  "  How  "  with  a  salaam  so  deep 
that  it  bent  my  head  down  to  the  pommel  of 
my  saddle ! 

In  a  few  moments,  which  seemed  however  a 
lifetime,  we  saw  the  reason  why  the  village  ap 
peared  so  empty.  Men,  women,  and  children 
had  gone  nearly  to  the  top  of  the  bluff,  and 


Adventures  During  the  March     125 

there,  with  their  bodies  hidden,  were  looking 
off  at  a  faint  cloud  of  dust  in  the  distance. 

My  husband,  appreciating  my  terror,  quick 
ly  assured  me  it  was  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 
Even  then,  what  a  stretch  of  country  it  seemed 
between  us  and  that  blessed  veil  of  sand, 
through  which  we  perceived  dimly  that  suc 
cor  was  at  hand. 

My  horse  was  rather  given  to  snuggling,  and 
pressed  so  against  the  General  that  he  made  his 
leg  very  uncomfortable  sometimes.  But  it 
seemed  to  me  an  ocean  of  space  was  dividing 
us.  I  longed  for  the  old  Puritan  days,  when  a 
wife  rode  on  a  pillion  behind  her  liege. 

I  found  courage  to  look  back  at  last.  The 
bluff  was  crowned  with  little  irregularities,  so 
still  that  they  seemed  like  tufts  of  grass  or 
stones.  They  represented  many  pairs  of  bead- 
like  eyes,  that  peered  over  the  country  at  the 
advancing  troops. 

The  next  day  the  General  thought  I  might 
rather  not  go  with  him  than  run  the  risk  of 
such  frights;  but  I  gladly  consented  to  be 
taken  along  every  day,  although  there  never 
seemed  a  time  when  it  was  not  necessary  to  get 
accustomed  to  some  new  terror. 

The  rattlesnakes  were  so  numerous  on  this 
march  that  all  Texas  and  Kansas  experience 


126  The  Boy  General 

seemed  dwarfed  in  contrast.  My  horse  was 
over  sixteen  hands  high,  but  I  would  gladly 
have  exchanged  him  for  a  camelopard  when  I 
rode  suddenly  almost  upon  a  snake  coiled  in 
the  grass,  and  looked  down  into  the  eyes  of  the 
upraised  head.  We  counted  those  we  encoun 
tered  in  one  day's  journey  until  we  were  tired. 
The  men  became  very  expert  and  systematic 
in  clearing  the  camp  of  these  reptiles.  If  we 
halted  at  night  in  the  underbrush,  they  cut  and 
tore  away  the  reeds  and  grass,  and  began  at 
once  to  beat  the  ground  and  kill  the  snakes. 
As  many  as  forty  were  killed  in  one  night. 
After  that,  when  the  ground  was  selected  for 
our  camp  in  the  low  part  of  the  valley,  I  was 
loath  to  lie  down  and  sleep  until  the  soldiers 
had  come  up  to  prepare  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  YELLOWSTONE  EXPEDITION 

THE  day  at  last  came  for  our  march  of  five 
hundred  miles  to  terminate.  A  rickety  old 
ferryboat  that  took  us  over  the  river  made  a 
halt  near  Fort  Rice,  and  there  we  established 
ourselves.  Strange  to  say,  the  river  was  no  nar- 


The   Yellowstone  Expedition        127 

rower  there  than  we  had  found  it  many  hundred 
miles  below,  where  we  started.  Muddy  and 
full  of  sand-bars  as  it  was,  we  began  bravely  to 
drink  the  water,  when  the  glass  had  been  filled 
long  enough  for  the  sediment  partially  to  settle, 
and  to  take  our  bath  in  what  at  first  seemed 
liquid  mud.  We  learned  after  a  time  to  settle 
the  water  with  alum,  and  we  finally  became  ac 
customed  to  the  taste. 

The  Commandant  at  Fort  Rice  was  most  hos 
pitable,  and  his  wife  charming.  The  quarters 
were  very  ordinary  frame  buildings,  with  no 
modern  improvements.  They  were  painted  a 
funereal  tint,  but  one  warranted  to  last.  The 
interior  showed  the  presence  of  a  tasteful 
woman.  She  met  us  as  cheerfully  as  if  she 
were  in  the  luxurious  home  from  which  we 
knew  she  had  gone  as  a  girl  to  follow  a  soldier's 
life.  The  dinner  was  excellent,  and  our  enter 
tainers  were  the  happy  possessors  of  a  good 
cook.  Rarely  do  army  people  have  two  good 
servants  at  the  same  time  on  the  frontier.  Our 
host  and  hostess  made  no  apologies,  but  quietly 
waited  on  the  table  themselves,  and  a  merry 
time  we  had  over  the  blunders  of  the  head  of 
the  house,  who  was  a  distinguished  general,  in 
his  endeavors  to  find  necessary  dishes  in  the 
china-closet. 


128  The  Boy  General 

A  steamer  that  arrived  a  day  or  two  after  we 
had  reached  Fort  Rice  brought  the  regimental 
property.  Our  household  effects  and  trunks 
were  delivered  to  us  in  a  very  sorry  condition. 
They  had  been  carelessly  stored  on  the  wharf 
at  Yankton,  near  the  Government  warehouse, 
without  any  covering,  during  all  the  storms 
that  drenched  us  coming  up  the  river.  Almost 
everything  was  mildewed  and  ruined.  We 
tried  to  dry  our  clothing  in  the  sun.  Many  a 
little  bit  of  silken  finery  that  we  had  cherished 
since  our  marriage  days  was  suspended  from 
the  tent-ropes,  stained  and  dull.  Our  sister's 
husband  helped  her  to  unpack  her  clothes  and 
his  own  soaked  uniform.  He  was  dignified  and 
reserved  by  nature,  but  on  that  occasion  the 
barriers  were  broken.  I  heard  him  ask  Mar 
garet  to  excuse  him  while  he  went  outside  the 
tent  to  make  some  remarks  to  himself.  There 
were  furious  people  on  all  sides,  and  savage 
speeches  about  the  thoughtlessness  of  those 
who  had  left  our  property  exposed  to  snow 
and  rain,  when  we  were  no  longer  there  to 
care  for  it.  I  endured  everything  with  patience 
until  my  pretty  wedding-dress  was  taken  out, 
crushed,  and  spotted  with  mildew. 

All  thought  began  now  to  centre  on  the  com 
ing  events  of  the  summer.  It  was  decided  that 


The   Yellowstone  Expedition        129 

the  regiment  was  to  go  out  to  guard  the  en 
gineers  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  while 
they  surveyed  the  route  from  Bismarck  to  the 
Yellowstone  River.  The  ladies  necessarily 
were  to  be  left  behind.  Now  began  the  sum 
mer  of  my  discontent.  I  longed  to  remain  in 
Dakota,  for  I  knew  it  would  take  much  longer 
for  our  letters  to  reach  us  if  we  went  East. 
Besides,  it  was  far  more  comforting  to  stay  at 
a  military  post,  where  everyone  was  interested 
in  the  expedition,  and  talked  about  it  as  the 
chief  topic  of  concern.  I  remembered  when  I 
had  gone  East  before,  during  a  summer  when 
our  regiment  was  fighting  Indians,  and  my 
idea  was  that  the  whole  country  would  be 
almost  as  absorbed  as  we  were,  how  shocked  I 
was  to  be  asked,  when  I  spoke  of  the  regiment, 
"  Ah,  is  there  a  campaign,  and  for  what  pur 
pose  has  it  gone  out  ?" 

I  was  willing  to  live  in  a  tent  alone  at  the 
post,  but  there  were  not  even  tents  to  be  had. 
Then  we  all  looked  with  envious  eyes  at  the 
quarters  at  Fort  Rice.  The  post  was  small, 
and  there  were  no  vacant  rooms  except  in  the 
bachelor  quarters. 

There  was  nothing  left  for  us,  then,  but  to  go 
home.  It  was  a  sore  disappointment.  We  were 
put  on  the  steamer  that  was  to  take  us  to  Bis- 


130  The  Boy  General 

marck,  a  heart-broken  little  group.  I  hated 
Dakota,  the  ugly  river,  and  even  my  native 
land.  We  were  nearly  devoured  with  mos 
quitoes  at  once.  Only  the  strongest  ammonia 
on  our  faces  and  hands  served  to  alleviate  the 
torment.  The  journey  was  wretchedness  itself. 
I  had  thrown  myself  on  the  berth  in  one  of  the 
little  suffocating  state-rooms,  exhausted  with 
weeping,  and  too  utterly  overcome  with  the 
anguish  of  parting  to  know  much  of  the  sur 
roundings. 

At  last  the  slow,  wearisome  journey  was 
over,  and  we  went  into  the  little  town  of  Bis 
marck  to  take  the  cars,  and  soon  found  our 
selves  welcomed  by  dear  father  and  mother 
Custer,  at  Monroe. 

For  several  slow,  irksome  months  I  did  little 
else  than  wait  for  the  tardy  mails,  and  count 
each  day  that  passed  again.  I  had  very  inter 
esting  letters  from  my  husband,  sometimes 
thirty  and  forty  pages  in  length.  He  wrote  of 
his  delight  at  having  again  his  whole  regiment 
with  him,  his  interest  in  the  country,  his  hunt 
ing  exploits,  and  the  renewal  of  his  friendship 
with  General  Rosser.  The  Seventh  Cavalry 
were  sent  out  to  guard  the  engineers  of  the 
Northern  Pacific,  while  they  surveyed  the  route 
to  the  Yellowstone.  This  party  of  citizens 


The    Yellowstone  Expedition         131 

joined  the  command  a  few  days  out  from  Fort 
Rice.  The  General  wrote  me  that  he  was  lying 
on  the  buffalo-robe  in  his  tent,  resting  after  the 
march,  when  he  heard  a  voice  outside  asking 
the  sentinel  which  was  General  Custer's  tent. 
The  General  called  out,  "  Halloo,  old  fellow !  I 
haven't  heard  that  voice  in  thirteen  years,  but 
I  know  it.  Come  in  and  welcome !" 

General  Rosser  walked  in,  and  such  a  reunion 
as  they  had  !  These  two  had  been  classmates 
and  warm  friends  at  West  Point,  and  parted 
with  sorrow  when  General  Rosser  went  into 
the  Southern  Army.  Afterward  they  had 
fought  each  other  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley 
time  and  time  again.  Both  of  them  lay  on  the 
robe  for  hours  talking  over  the  campaigns  in 
Virginia.  In  the  varying  fortunes  of  war,  some 
times  one  had  got  possession  of  the  wagon- 
train  belonging  to  the  other.  I  knew  of  several 
occasions  when  they  had  captured  each  other's 
head-quarters  wagons  with  the  private  luggage. 
If  one  drove  the  other  back  in  retreat,  before 
he  went  into  camp  he  wrote  a  note  addressing 
the  other  as  "dear  friend,'  and  saying,  "you 
may  have  made  me  take  a  few  steps  this  way 
to-day,  but  I'll  be  even  with  you  to-morrow. 
Please  accept  my  good  wishes  and  this  little 
gift."  These  notes  and  presents  were  left  at 


132  The  Boy  General 

the  house  of  some  Southern  woman,  as  they 
retreated  out  of  the  village. 

Once  General  Custer  took  all  of  his  friend's 
luggage,  and  found  in  it  a  new  uniform  coat  of 
Confederate  gray.  He  wrote  a  humorous  letter 
that  night  thanking  General  Rosser  for  setting 
him  up  in  so  many  new  things,  but  audaciously 
asking  if  he  "  would  direct  his  tailor  to  make 
the  coat-tails  of  his  next  uniform  a  little  shorter," 
as  there  was  a  difference  in  the  height  of  the 
two  men.  General  Custer  captured  his  herd 
of  cattle  at  one  time,  but  he  was  so  hotly  pur 
sued  by  General  Rosser  that  he  had  to  dis 
mount,  cut  a  whip,  and  drive  them  himself 
until  they  were  secured. 

To  return  to  the  Yellowstone  expedition — 
the  hour  for  starting  never  varied  more  than  a 
few  moments  during  the  summer,  and  it  was  so 
early  the  civilians  connected  with  the  engineer 
ing  party  could  not  become  reconciled  to  it. 
In  the  afternoon  my  husband  sometimes  walked 
out  on  the  outskirts  of  camp,  and  threw  him 
self  down  in  the  grass  to  rest  with  his  dogs 
beside  him. 

It  was  a  source  of  amusement  to  him  if  he 
accidentally  overheard  the  grumbling.  His 
campaigning  dress  was  so  like  that  of  an  en 
listed  man,  and  his  insignia  of  rank  so  unnotice- 


The    Yellowstone  Expedition        133 

able,  that  the  tongues  ran  on,  indifferent  to  his 
presence.  Sometimes,  in  their  growling,  the 
civilians  accused  him  of  having  something  on 
his  conscience,  and  declared  that,  not  being 
able  to  sleep  himself,  he  woke  every  one  else  to 
an  unearthly  reveille.  At  this  he  choked  with 
laughter,  and  to  their  dismay  they  discovered 
who  he  was. 

I  remember  his  telling  me  of  another  occa 
sion,  when  he  unavoidably  heard  a  soldier  ex 
claim,  "  There  goes  taps,  and  before  we  get  a 
mouthful  to  eat,  reveille  will  sound,  and  '  Old 
Curley  '  will  hike  us  out  for  the  march."  The 
soldier  was  slightly  discomfited  to  find  the  sub 
ject  of  his  remarks  was  within  hearing. 

The  enlisted  men  were  constantly  finding  new 
names  for  the  General,  which  I  should  never 
have  known — thereby  losing  some  amusement 
— if  Mary  had  not  occasionally  told  me  of  them. 
A  favorite  was  "  Jack,"  the  letters  G.  A.  C.  on 
his  valise  having  served  as  a  suggestion. 

When  the  expedition  returned  from  the  Yel 
lowstone,  a  despatch  came  to  me  in  Michigan, 
saying  the  regiment  had  reached  Fort  Lincoln 
in  safety.  Another  soon  followed,  informing 
me  that  my  husband  was  on  his  way  home. 
The  relief  from  constant  anxiety  and  suspense, 
together  with  all  the  excitement  into  which  I 


134  The  Boy  General 

was  thrown,  made  me  almost  unfit  to  make 
preparation  to  meet  him.  There  was  to  be  an 
army  reunion  in  the  city  nearest  us,  and  in  my 
impatience  I  took  the  first  train,  thinking  to 
reach  there  in  advance  of  General  Custer.  As 
I  walked  along  the  street,  looking  into  shop- 
windows,  I  felt,  rather  than  saw,  a  sudden  rush 
from  a  door,  and  I  was  taken  off  my  feet  and 
set  dancing  in  air.  Before  I  could  resent  what 
I  thought  was  an  indignity,  I  discovered  that 
it  was  my  husband,  who  seemed  utterly  regard 
less  of  the  passers-by.  He  was  sunburnt  and 
mottled,  for  the  flesh  was  quite  fair  where  he 
had  cut  his  beard,  the  growth  of  the  summer. 
He  told  me  the  officers  with  whom  he  had 
travelled  in  the  Pullman  car  had  teased  him, 
and  declared  that  no  man  would  shave  in  a  car 
going  at  forty  miles  an  hour,  except  to  prepare 
to  meet  his  sweetheart. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   RETURN   TO   FORT   LINCOLN 

IN  a  few  days  we  were  ready  to  return  to 
Dakota,  and  very  glad  to  go,  except  for  leaving 
the  old  parents. 


The  Return  to  Fort  Lincoln       135 

The  hardest  trial  of  my  husband's  life  was 
parting  with  his  mother.  Such  partings  were 
the  only  occasions  when  I  ever  saw  him  lose 
entire  control  of  himself. 

For  hours  before  we  started,  I  saw  him  fol 
low  his  mother  about,  whispering  some  com 
forting  word  to  her  ;  or,  opening  the  closed 
door  of  her  own  room,  where,  womanlike,  she 
fought  out  her  grief  alone,  sit  beside  her  as 
long  as  he  could  endure  it.  She  had  been  an 
invalid  for  so  many  years  that  each  parting 
seemed  to  her  the  final  one.  Her  groans  and 
sobs  were  heart-rending.  She  clung  to  him 
every  step  when  he  started  to  go,  and  was  led 
back,  half-fainting,  to  her  couch. 

The  General  would  rush  out  of  the  house, 
sobbing  like  a  child,  and  then  throw  himself 
into  the  carriage  completely  unnerved.  I  could 
only  give  silent  comfort.  My  heart  bled  for 
him,  and  in  the  long  silence  that  followed  as 
we  journeyed  on,  I  knew  that  his  thoughts 
were  with  his  mother.  At  our  first  stop  he 
was  out  of  the  cars  in  an  instant,  buying  fruit 
to  send  back  to  her.  Before  we  were  even  un 
packed  in  the  hotel,  where  we  made  our  first 
stay,  he  had  dashed  off  a  letter.  I  have  since 
seen  those  missives.  No  matter  how  hurriedly 
he  wrote,  they  were  proofs  of  the  tenderest, 


136  The  Boy   General 

most  filial  love,  and  full  of  the  prophecies  he 
never  failed  to  make,  of  the  reunion  that  he  felt 
would  soon  come. 

When  we  finally  reached  the  termination  of 
the  road  at  Bismarck,  another  train  was  about 
starting  back  to  St.  Paul.  The  street  was  full 
of  people,  wildly  expostulating-  and  talking 
loudly  and  fiercely.  It  appeared  that  this  was 
the  last  train  of  the  season,  as  the  cars  were 
not  to  run  during  the  winter.  The  passengers 
were  mostly  Bismarck  citizens,  whose  lawless 
life  as  gamblers  and  murderers  had  so  outraged 
the  sentiments  of  the  few  law-abiding  residents 
that  they  had  forced  them  to  depart.  We 
could  see  these  outlaws  crowding  at  the  door, 
hanging  out  of  the  windows,  swearing  and 
menacing,  and  finally  firing  on  the  retreating 
crowd  as  the  cars  passed  out  of  town.  We 
were  quietly  slipped  out  on  the  other  side  of 
the  depot,  hurried  into  the  ambulance,  and 
driven  to  the  river. 

The  ice  was  already  thick  enough  to  bear 
our  weight  part  way  over ;  then  came  a  swift 
rushing  torrent  of  water  which  had  to  be  crossed 
in  a  small  boat.  Some  of  the  soldiers  rowed, 
while  one  kept  the  huge  cakes  of  floating  ice 
from  our  frail  boat  with  a  long,  iron-pointed 
pole.  As  I  stepped  into  the  little  craft,  I 


The  Return  to  Fort  Lincoln       137 

dropped  upon  the  bottom  and  hid  my  eyes,  and 
no  amount  of  reference  to  dangers  I  had  en 
countered  before  induced  me  to  look  up.  The 
current  of  the  Missouri  is  so  swift  it  is  some 
thing  dreadful  to  encounter.  We  were  lifted 
out  upon  the  ice  again,  and  walked  to  the  bank. 
Once  more  on  shore,  I  said  to  myself,  here  will 
I  live  and  die,  and  never  go  on  that  river 
again. 

Our  brother,  Lieutenant  Tom,  met  us,  and 
drove  us  to  our  new  home.  In  the  dim  light  I 
could  see  the  great  post  of  Fort  Lincoln,  where 
only  a  few  months  before  we  had  left  a  barren 
plain.  Our  quarters  were  lighted,  and  as  we  ap 
proached,  the  regimental  band  played  "Home, 
Sweet  Home,"  followed  by  the  General's  favor 
ite,  "  Garryowen." 

The  General  had  completely  settled  the  house 
before  he  left  for  the  East,  but  he  had  kept 
this  fact  secret,  as  a  surprise.  Our  friends  had 
lighted  it  all,  and  built  fires  in  the  fireplaces. 
The  garrison  had  gathered  to  welcome  us,  and 
Mary  had  a  grand  supper  ready.  How  we 
chattered  and  gloried  over  the  regiment  hav 
ing  a  home  at  last.  It  seemed  too  good  to  be 
lieve  that  the  Seventh  Cavalry  had  a  post  of  its 
own,  with  room  for  the  half  of  the  regiment 
assigned  to  duty  there.  In  other  garrisons, 


138  The  Boy  General 

when  we  had  come  in  late  in  the  fall  from  cam 
paigns,  the  officers,  in  order  to  get  places  for 
themselves,  had  been  obliged  to  turn  some  one 
else  out.  There  is  a  disagreeable,  though  prob 
ably  necessary  law  in  the  army  regulations, 
which  directs  officers  to  take  their  quarters  ac 
cording  to  rank. 

Fort  Lincoln  was  built  with  quarters  for  six 
companies.  The  barracks  for  the  soldiers  were 
on  the  side  of  the  parade-ground  nearest  the 
river,  while  seven  detached  houses  for  officers 
faced  the  river  opposite.  On  the  left  of  the 
parade-ground  was  the  long  granary  and  the 
little  military  prison,  called  the  "  guard-house." 
Outside  the  garrison  proper,  near  the  river, 
were  the  stables  for  six  hundred  horses.  Still 
farther  beyond  were  the  quarters  for  the  laun 
dresses,  easily  traced  by  the  swinging  clothes 
lines  in  front,  and  dubbed  for  this  reason  "  Suds 
Row."  Some  distance  on  from  there  were  the 
log  huts  of  the  Indian  scouts  and  their  families, 
while  on  the  same  side  also  was  the  level 
plain  used  for  parades  and  drill. 

The  post  was  located  in  a  valley,  while  just 
back  of  us  stretched  a  long  chain  of  bluffs.  On 
the  summit  of  a  hill,  nearly  a  mile  to  the  left, 
was  a  small  infantry  garrison,  which  had  been 
established  some  time,  and  now  belonged  to 


The  Return  to  Fort  Lincoln       139 

our  post.  When  we  went  to  return  the  visits 
of  the  infantry  ladies,  the  mules  dragged  the 
ambulance  up  the  steep  hill  with  difficulty. 
We  found  living  in  this  bleak  place — in  small, 
shabbily  built  quarters,  such  as  a  day-laborer 
would  consider  hardly  good  enough  for  his 
family — delicate  women  and  children,  who,  as 
usual,  made  no  complaint  about  their  life.  Af 
terward  we  were  much  indebted  to  one  of  the 
ladies,  who,  determined  to  conquer  fate,  varied 
our  lives  and  gave  us  something  to  look  for 
ward  to,  by  organizing  a  reading-club  that  met 
every  week.  She  had  sent  to  the  East,  before 
the  trains  ceased  running,  for  the  new  books. 

This  little  post  had  been  built  before  the 
railroad  was  completed,  and  the  houses  were 
put  together  with  as  few  materials  as  possible. 
There  was  no  plastering,  but  the  ceilings  and 
partitions  were  of  thick  paper  made  for  the 
purpose.  In  one  set  of  quarters  there  chanced 
to  be  so  many  children  and  so  little  room  that 
the  parents  had  invented  a  three-story  bed, 
where  the  little  ones  could  be  all  stowed  at 
night. 

The  soldiers  asked  the  General's  permission 
to  put  up  a  place  in  which  they  could  give  en 
tertainments,  and  he  gave  them  every  assist 
ance  he  could.  They  prepared  the  lumber  in 


140  The  Boy  General 

the  saw-mill  that  belonged  to  the  post.  The 
building  was  an  ungainly  looking  structure, 
but  large  enough  to  hold  them  all.  The  un 
seasoned  cotton-wood  warped  even  while  the 
house  was  being  built,  but  by  patching  and 
lining  with  old  torn  tents,  they  managed  to 
keep  out  the  storm.  The  scenery  was  painted 
on  condemned  canvas  stretched  on  a  frame 
work,  and  was  lifted  on  and  off  as  the  plays 
required.  The  foot-lights  in  front  of  the  rude 
stage  were  tallow  candles  that  smoked  and  sput 
tered  inside  the  clumsily  cobbled  casing  of  tin. 
The  seats  were  narrow  benches,  without  backs. 
The  officers  and  ladies  were  always  invited  to 
take  the  front  row  at  every  new  performance, 
and  after  they  entered,  the  house  filled  up  with 
soldiers.  Some  of  the  enlisted  men  played 
very  well,  and  used  great  ingenuity  in  getting 
up  their  costumes.  The  General  accepted 
every  invitation,  and  enjoyed  it  all  greatly. 
The  clog-dancing  and  negro  character-songs 
between  the  acts  were  excellent.  Indeed,  we 
sometimes  had  professionals,  who,  having  been 
stranded  in  the  States,  had  enlisted. 


Life  at  Fort  Lincoln  141 


CHAPTER  XVI 

LIFE  AT  FORT   LINCOLN 

THE  companies  each  gave  a  ball  in  turn  dur 
ing  the  winter,  and  the  preparations  were 
begun  long  in  advance.  There  was  no  place 
to  buy  anything,  save  the  sutler's  store  and  the 
shops  in  the  little  town  of  Bismarck,  but  they 
were  well  ransacked  for  materials  for  the 
supper.  The  bunks  where  the  soldiers  slept 
were  removed  from  the  barracks,  and  flags  fes 
tooned  around  the  room.  Arms  were  stacked 
and  guidons  arranged  in  groups.  A  few  pict 
ures  of  distinguished  men  were  wreathed  in 
imitation  laurel  leaves  cut  out  of  green  paper. 
Chandeliers  and  side  brackets  carved  out  of 
cracker-box  boards  into  fantastic  shapes  were 
filled  with  candles,  while  at  either  end  of  the 
long  room  great  logs  in  the  wide  fireplaces 
threw  out  a  cheerful  light. 

The  ball  opened,  headed  by  the  first  ser 
geant.  After  this  the  officers  and  their  wives 
were  invited  to  form  a  set  at  one  end  of  the 
room,  and  we  danced  several  times.  One  of 
the  men  whose  voice  was  clear  and  loud  sang 


142  The  Boy  General 

the  calls.  He  was  a  comical  genius,  and  im 
provised  new  ways  of  calling  off.  When  the 
place  came  in  the  quadrille  to  "  Turn  your 
partners,"  his  voice  rose  above  the  music,  in 
the  notes  of  the  old  song,  "  Oh,  swing  those 
girls,  those  pretty  little  girls,  those  girls  you 
left  behind  you!"  This  was  such  an  inspira 
tion  to  the  fun-lovers  that  the  swinging  usually 
ended  in  our  being  whirled  in  the  air  by  the 
privileged  members  of  our  family. 

The  soldiers  were  a  superb  lot  of  men  physi 
cally.  The  out-door  life  had  developed  them 
into  perfect  specimens  of  vigorous  manhood. 
After  the  company  tailor  had  cut  over  their 
uniforms,  they  were  often  the  perfection  of 
good  fitting.  The  older  soldiers  wore,  on  the 
sleeves  of  their  coats,  the  rows  of  braid  that 
show  the  number  of  years  in  the  service. 
Some  had  the  army  badges  of  the  corps  in 
which  they  fought  during  the  war,  while  an 
occasional  foreign  decoration  told  that  they 
had  been  brave  soldiers  in  the  fatherland.  We 
were  escorted  out  to  the  supper-room  in  the 
company-kitchen  in  advance  of  the  enlisted 
men.  The  General  delighted  the  hearts  of  the 
sergeant  and  ball-managers  by  sitting  down  to 
a  great  dish  of  potato-salad.  It  was  always  well 
flavored  with  the  onion,  as  rare  out  there,  and 


Life  at  Fort  Lincoln  143 

more  appreciated  than  pomegranates'  are  in 
New  York.  We  ladies  took  cake,  of  course,  but 
sparingly,  for  it  also  was  a  great  luxury. 

When  we  returned  to  watch  the  dancing,  the 
General  was  on  nettles  for  fear  we  should  look 
amused  at  the  costumes  of  the  women.  There 
was  but  a  sprinkling  of  them  :  several  from  Bis 
marck  and  a  few  white  servants  of  the  officers. 
Each  company  was  allowed  but  three  or  four 
laundresses.  These  women  were  at  the  ball  in 
full  force,  and  each  one  brought  her  baby. 
When  we  removed  our  wraps  in  the  room  of 
the  first  sergeant,  we  usually  found  his  bed  quite 
full  of  curly  headed  infants  sleeping,  while  the 
laundress  mothers  danced.  The  toilets  of  these 
women  were  something  marvellous  in  construc 
tion.  In  low  neck  and  short  sleeves,  their  round, 
red  arms  and  well-developed  figures  wheeled 
around  the  barracks  all  night  long. 

The  hounds  were  an  endless  source  of  de 
light  to  the  General.  We  had  about  forty: 
the  stag-hounds  that  run  by  sight,  and  are  on 
the  whole  the  fleetest  and  most  enduring  dogs 
in  the  world,  and  the  fox-hounds  that  follow  the 
trail  with  their  noses  close  to  the  ground.  The 
first  rarely  bark,  but  the  latter  are  very  noisy. 
The  General  and  I  used  to  listen  with  amuse 
ment  to  their  attempts  to  strike  the  key-note  of 


144  The  Boy  General 

the  bugler  when  he  sounded  the  calls  summon 
ing  the  men  to  guard-mount,  stables,  or  retreat. 
It  rather  destroyed  the  military  effect  to  see, 
beside  his  soldierly  figure,  a  hound  sitting  down 
absorbed  in  imitation,  while  with  lifted  head  and 
rolling  eyes  there  issued  from  the  broad  mouth 
notes  most  doleful. 

I  never  tired  of  watching  the  start  for  the 
hunt.  The  General  was  a  figure  that  would 
have  fixed  attention  anywhere.  He  had  marked 
individuality  of  appearance,  and  a  certain  un 
studied  carelessness  in  the  wearing  of  his  cos 
tume  that  gave  a  picturesque  effect,  not  the 
least  out  of  place  on  the  frontier.  He  wore 
troop-boots  reaching  to  his  knees,  buckskin 
breeches  fringed  on  the  sides,  a  dark  navy  blue 
shirt  with  a  broad  collar,  a  red  necktie,  whose 
ends  floated  over  his  shoulder  exactly  as  they 
did  when  he  and  his  entire  division  of  cavalry 
had  worn  them  during  the  war.  On  the  broad 
felt  hat,  that  was  almost  a  sombrero,  was  fast 
ened  a  slight  mark  of  his  rank. 

He  was  at  this  time  thirty-five  years  of  age, 
weighed  one  hundred  and  seventy  pounds,  and 
was  nearly  six  feet  in  height.  His  eyes  were 
clear  blue  and  deeply  set,  his  hair  short,  wavy, 
and  golden  in  tint.  His  mustache  was  long  and 
tawny  in  color ;  his  complexion  was  florid,  ex- 


Life  at  Fort  Lincoln  145 

cept  where  his  forehead  was  shaded  by  his  hat, 
for  the  sun  always  burned  his  skin  ruthlessly. 

He  was  the  most  agile,  active  man  I  ever 
knew,  and  so  very  strong  and  in  such  perfect 
physical  condition  that  he  rarely  knew  even  an 
hour's  indisposition. 

Horse  and  man  seemed  one  when  the  General 
vaulted  into  the  saddle.  His  body  was  so  light 
ly  poised  and  so  full  of  swinging,  undulating 
motion,  it  almost  seemed  that  the  wind  moved 
him  as  it  blew  over  the  plain.  Yet  every  nerve 
was  alert  and  like  finely  tempered  steel,  for  the 
muscles  and  sinews  that  seemed  so  pliable  were 
equal  to  the  curbing  of  the  most  fiery  animal. 
I  do  not  think  that  he  sat  his  horse  with  more 
grace  than  the  other  officers,  for  they  rode  su 
perbly,  but  it  was  accounted  by  others  almost 
an  impossibility  to  dislodge  the  General  from 
the  saddle,  no  matter  how  vicious  the  horse 
might  prove.  With  his  own  horses  he  needed 
neither  spur  nor  whip.  They  were  such  friends 
of  his,  and  his  voice  seemed  so  attuned  to  their 
natures,  they  knew  as  well  by  its  inflections  as 
by  the  slight  pressure  of  the  bridle  on  their 
necks  what  he  wanted.  By  the  merest  inclina 
tion  on  the  General's  part,  they  either  sped  on 
the  wings  of  the  wind  or  adapted  their  spirited 
steps  to  the  slow  movement  of  the  march.  It 


146  The  Boy   General 

was  a  delight  to  see  them  together,  they  were 
so  in  unison,  and  when  he  talked  to  them,  as 
though  they  had  been  human  beings,  their  in 
telligent  eyes  seemed  to  reply. 

After  the  hunts  the  dogs  had  often  to  be 
cared  for.  They  would  be  lame,  or  cut  in  the 
chase  through  the  tangle  of  vines  and  branches. 
These  were  so  dense  it  was  a  constant  wonder 
to  the  General  how  the  deer  could  press  through 
with  its  spreading  antlers.  The  English  hounds, 
unacquainted  with  our  game,  used  to  begin  with 
a  porcupine  sometimes.  It  was  pitiful  to  see 
their  noses  and  lips  looking  like  animated  pin 
cushions.  There  was  nothing  for  us  to  do  after 
such  an  encounter  but  to  begin  surgery  at  once. 
The  General  would  not  take  time  to  get  off  his 
hunting-clothes  or  go  near  the  fire  until  he  had 
called  the  dog  into  his  room  and  extracted  the 
painful  quills  with  the  tweezers  of  his  invalua 
ble  knife.  I  sat  on  the  dog  and  held  his  paws. 
The  quills  being  barbed  cannot  be  withdrawn, 
but  must  be  pulled  through  in  the  same  direc 
tion  in  which  they  enter.  The  gums,  lips, 
and  roof  of  the  mouth  were  full  of  little  wounds, 
but  the  dogs  were  extremely  sagacious  and  held 
still.  When  the  painful  operation  was  over  they 
were  very  grateful,  licking  the  General's  hand 
as  he  praised  them  for  their  pluck. 


Life  at  Fort  Lincoln  147 

The  wolves  in  their  desperate  hunger  used 
to  come  up  on  the  bluffs  almost  within  a  stone's- 
throw  of  our  quarters.  It  was  far  from  pleasant 
to  look  out  of  the  window  and  see  them  prowl 
ing  about.  Once  when  the  stag-hounds  were 
let  out  of  the  kennel  for  exercise,  they  flew  over 
the  hills  after  a  coyote.  The  soldier  who  took 
care  of  them  could  only  follow  on  foot,  as  the 
crust  on  the  snow  would  not  bear  the  weight 
of  a  horse.  After  a  long,  cold  walk  he  found 
the  dogs  standing  over  the  wolf  they  had  killed. 
When  he  had  dragged  it  back  to  our  wood-shed 
he  sent  in  to  ask  if  the  General  would  come  and 
see  what  the  dogs  had  done  unaided,  for  he  was 
very  proud  of  them. 

When  the  thermometer  went  down  to  45°  be 
low  zero,  the  utmost  vigilance  was  exercised  to 
prevent  the  men  from  being  frozen.  The  Gen 
eral  took  off  all  the  sentinels  but  two,  and  those 
were  encased  in  buffalo  overcoats  and  shoes,  and 
required  to  walk  their  beat  but  fifteen  minutes 
at  a  time.  There  were  no  wells  or  cisterns,  and 
the  quartermaster  had  no  means  of  supplying 
the  post  with  water,  except  with  a  water-wagon 
that  required  six  mules  to  haul  it  around  the 
garrison.  The  hole  in  the  river  through  which 
the  water  was  drawn  was  cut  through  five  feet 
of  ice.  It  was  dreadful  on  those  bitter  days  to 


148  The  Boy  General 

see  the  poor  men  distribute  the  supply.  My 
husband  used  to  turn  away  with  a  shudder  from 
the  window  when  they  came  in  sight.  The  two 
barrels  at  the  kitchen-door  were  all  that  we 
could  have,  and  on  some  days  the  men  and 
wagon  could  not  go  around  at  all. 

We  had  hardly  finished  arranging  our  quar 
ters  when,  one  freezing  night,  I  was  awakened 
by  a  roaring  sound  in  a  chimney  that  had  been 
defective  from  the  first.  The  sound  grew  too 
loud  to  be  mistaken,  and  I  awakened  my  hus 
band.  He  ran  upstairs  and  found  the  room 
above  us  on  fire.  He  called  to  me  to  bring  him 
some  water,  believing  he  could  extinguish  it 
himself.  While  I  hurried  after  the  water,  there 
came  such  a  crash  and  explosion  that  my  brain 
seemed  to  reel.  I  had  no  thought  but  that  my 
husband  was  killed.  Nothing  can  describe  the 
relief  with  which  I  heard  his  voice  again.  His 
escape  was  very  narrow ;  the  chimney  had 
burst,  the  whole  side  of  the  room  was  blown 
out,  and  he  was  covered  with  plaster  and  sur 
rounded  with  fallen  bricks.  The  gas  from  the 
petroleum  paper  put  on  between  the  plastering 
and  the  outer  walls  to  keep  out  the  cold  had 
exploded.  The  roof  had  ignited  at  once,  and 
was  blown  off  with  a  noise  like  the  report  of 
artillery. 


Life  at  Fort  Lincoln  149 

The  sentinel  at  the  guard-house  sounded  an 
alarm  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time  the  men 
were  swarming  about  the  house.  The  General 
had  buttoned  his  vest,  containing  his  watch  and 
purse,  over  his  long  night-dress,  and,  uncon 
scious  of  his  appearance,  gave  just  as  cool  or 
ders  to  the  soldiers  as  if  it  were  a  drill.  They, 
also,  were  perfectly  cool,  and  worked  like  bea 
vers  to  remove  our  things ;  for  with  no  engine 
and  without  water  it  was  useless  to  try  to  save 
the  house.  The  General  stood  upon  the  upper 
landing  and  forbade  them  to  join  him,  as  it  was 
perilous,  the  floors  being  then  on  fire.  He  had 
insisted  upon  my  going  out  of  the  house,  but  I 
was  determined  not  to  do  so  until  he  was  safe. 
When  I  did  leave  I  ran  in  my  night-dress  over 
the  snow  to  our  sister's.  The  house  burned 
very  quickly.  Fortunately,  it  was  a  still,  cold 
night,  and  there  was  no  wind  to  spread  the 
flames.  Except  for  this  the  whole  garrison 
must  fyave  been  burned. 

When  the  morning  came  we  went  to  inspect 
the  heap  of  household  belongings  that  had  been 
carried  out  on  the  parade-ground.  It  was  a 
sorry  collection  of  torn,  broken,  and  marred 
effects !  Most  of  my  clothes  were  gone.  1  had 
lost  silver  and  linen,  and  what  laces  and  finery 
I  had.  The  only  loss  I  mourned,  as  it  was  real- 


150  The  Boy   General 

ly  irreparable,  was  a  collection  of  newspaper 
clippings  regarding  my  husband  that  I  had 
saved  during  and  since  the  war.  Besides  these 
I  lost  a  little  wig  that  I  had  worn  at  a  fancy- 
dress  ball,  made  from  the  golden  rings  of  curly 
hair  cut  from  my  husband  s  head  after  the  war, 
when  he  had  given  up  wearing  long  locks. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

CAPTURE  AND   ESCAPE   OF   RAIN-IN-THE-FACE 

As  the  second  winter  progressed,  an  event 
happened  that  excited  us  all  very  much. 

Two  of  the  citizens  attached  to  the  Yellow 
stone  expedition,  one  as  the  sutler,  the  other  as 
the  veterinary  surgeon,  were  in  the  habit  of 
riding  by  themselves  a  great  deal.  Not  being 
enlisted  men,  much  more  liberty  than  soldiers 
have  was  allowed  them.  Many  warnings  were 
given,  however,  and  an  instance  of  the  killing 
by  Indians  of  two  of  their  comrades  the  year 
before  was  repeatedly  told  to  them.  One  day 
their  last  hour  of  lingering  came.  While  they 
stopped  to  water  their  horses,  some  Indians  con 
cealed  in  a  gully  shot  them  within  sight  of  our 
cavalry-men  who  were  then  fighting  on  the  hill. 


Capture  of  Rain-in-t  he-Face        151 

A  year  and  a  half  afterward  information 
came  to  our  post,  Fort  Lincoln,  that  an  Indian 
was  then  at  the  Agency  at  Standing  Rock, 
drawing  his  rations,  blankets,  and  ammunition 
from  the  Government,  and  at  the  same  time 
boasting  of  the  murder  of  these  two  men.  This 
intelligence  created  indignation  in  our  garrison. 
A  detachment  was  quickly  prepared,  and  started 
out  with  sealed  orders.  The  day  was  bitter, 
for  the  wind  cut  like  needle-points  into  the 
faces  of  the  troopers.  No  one  was  aware  even 
what  direction  they  were  to  take.  General 
Custer  knew  that  it  was  necessary  that  caution 
and  secrecy  should  be  observed.  At  the  next 
post,  twenty  miles  below,  there  were  scouts 
employed.  They  would  not  fail  to  send  out  a 
runner  and  warn  the  Standing  Rock  Indians  of 
the  coming  of  the  command  and  its  object,  if 
they  could  learn  what  it  was.  When  the  run 
ner  carries  important  news  he  starts  with  an 
even  gait  in  the  morning  and  keeps  it  up  all 
day,  hardly  stopping  to  drink  at  the  streams  he 
crosses.  Such  a  courier  would  outstrip  a  com 
mand  of  cavalry. 

Accordingly,  Fort  Rice  was  left  behind  many 
miles  before  the  orders  were  opened.  They 
contained  directions  to  capture  and  bring  back 
an  Uncapapa  Indian,  called  Rain-in-the-face,  the 


152  The  Boy  General 

avowed  murderer.  The  command  consisted  of 
a  hundred  men  under  Captain  George  Yates 
and  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer.  The  General  had 
selected  his  brother  to  assist  in  this  delicate 
transaction.  They  arrived  on  the  day  that  the 
Indians  were  drawing  their  rations  of  beef. 
There  were  five  hundred  at  the  Agency  armed 
with  long-range  rifles.  It  was  more  and  more 
clear  that  too  much  care  could  not  be  taken  to 
prevent  the  object  of  the  visit  being  known  to 
the  warriors.  An  expedition  had  been  sent 
down  once  before,  but  news  of  its  intentions  had 
reached  the  Agency  in  time  for  the  culprit  to 
escape.  He  could  not  refrain,  even  after  this 
warning,  from  openly  vaunting  his  crime. 

In  order  then  to  deceive  as  to  the  purport  of 
their  appearance  at  the  Agency,  Captain  Yates, 
the  captain  in  command  resorted  to  a  ruse.  He 
sent  fifty  men  to  the  camp  ten  miles  away  to 
make  inquiries  for  three  Indians  who  had  mur 
dered  citizens  on  the  Red  River  the  year  before. 
Lieutenant  Custer  was  ordered  to  take  five 
picked  men  and  go  to  the  traders'  store,  where 
the  Indians  resort  constantly.  This  required 
great  coolness  and  extreme  patience,  for  they 
had  to  lounge  about,  seemingly  indifferent,  until 
they  could  be  certain  the  right  man  was  dis 
covered.  The  cold  made  the  Indians  draw 


Capture  of  Rain-in-the-Face        153 

their  blankets  around  them  and  over  their 
heads.  There  is  never  any  individuality  about 
their  dress  unless  when  arrayed  for  a  council 
or  a  dance ;  it  was  therefore  almost  impossible 
to  tell  one  from  the  other. 

Lieutenant  Tom  had  to  wait  for  hours,  only 
looking  furtively  when  the  sharp  eyes  of  these 
wary  creatures  were  off  guard.  At  last  one  of 
them  loosened  his  blanket,  and  with  the  meagre 
description  that  had  been  given  him,  Lieutenant 
Tom  identified  him  as  Rain-in-the-face.  Com 
ing  suddenly  from  behind,  he  threw  his  arms 
about  him,  and  seized  the  Winchester  rifle  that 
the  savage  attempted  to  cock.  The  Indian  was 
taken  entirely  by  surprise.  No  fear  showed 
itself,  but  from  the  stolid  face  hate  and  revenge 
flashed  out.  He  drew  himself  up  in  an  inde 
pendent  manner,  to  show  his  brother  warriors 
that  he  did  not  dread  death. 

Among  them  he  had  been  considered  brave 
beyond  precedent,  because  he  had  dared  to 
enter  the  Agency  store  at  all,  and  so  encounter 
the  risk  of  arrest.  The  soldiers  tied  his  hands 
and  mounted  guard  over  him.  About  thirty- 
Indians  surrounded  them  instantly,  and  one  old 
orator  commenced  an  harangue  to  the  others, 
inciting  them  to  recapture  their  brother. 
Breathless  excitement  prevailed.  At  that  mo- 


154  The  Boy   General 

ment  the  captain  in  command  appeared  among 
them,  and  spoke  to  them,  through  an  interpre 
ter.  With  prudence  and  tact  he  explained  that 
they  intended  to  give  the  prisoner  exactly  the 
treatment  a  white  man  would  receive  under 
like  circumstances ;  that  nothing  would  induce 
them  to  give  him  up  ;  and  the  better  plan,  to 
save  bloodshed,  would  be  for  the  chiefs  to 
withdraw  and  take  with  them  their  followers. 
Seeing  that  they  could  accomplish  nothing  by 
intimidation  or  by  superior  numbers,  they  had 
recourse  to  parley  and  proposed  to  compro 
mise.  They  offered  as  a  sacrifice  two  Indians 
of  the  tribe  in  exchange  for  Rain-in-the-face. 

It  was  generosity  like  that  of  Artemus  Ward, 
who  offered  his  wife's  relatives  on  the  altar  of 
his  country,  for  they  took  care  not  to  offer  for 
sacrifice  any  Indians  of  equal  rank.  Rain-in- 
the-face  was  a  very  distinguished  warrior 
among  them,  and  belonged  to  a  family  of  six 
brothers,  one  of  whom,  Iron  Horse,  was  very 
influential.  The  officers  prevailed  in  the  end, 
and  the  prisoner  was  taken  to  the  cavalry  camp. 
During  the  time  that  the  Indians  were  opposing 
his  removal,  the  troopers  had  assembled  around 
the  entrance,  ready  for  any  emergency,  and 
prepared  to  escort  the  murderer  away.  The 
Indians  instantly  vanished ;  all  went  to  their 


Capture  of  Rain-in-t he-Face        155 

camp,  ten  miles  distant.  Our  officers  expected 
an  attack  when  they  began  their  homeward 
march  ;  to  their  surprise,  they  were  unmolested. 
After  the  command  had  returned,  General 
Custer  sent  for  Rain-in-the-face.  He  was  tall, 
straight,  and  young.  His  face  was  quite  stolid. 
In  a  subsequent  interview  the  General  locked 
himself  in  his  room  with  him.  Through  an  in 
terpreter,  and  with  every  clever  question  and 
infinite  patience  he  spent  hours  trying  to  induce 
the  Indian  to  acknowledge  his  crime.  The 
culprit's  face  finally  lost  its  impervious  look, 
and  he  showed  some  agitation.  He  gave  a 
brief  account  of  the  murder,  and  the  next  day 
made  a  full  confession  before  all  the  officers. 
He  said  neither  of  the  white  men  was  armed 
when  attacked.  He  had  shot  the  old  man,  but 
he  did  not  die  instantly,  riding  a  short  distance 
before  falling  from  his  horse.  He  then  went 
to  him  and  with  his  stone  mallet  beat  out  the 
last  breath  left.  Before  leaving  him  he  shot 
his  body  full  of  arrows.  The  younger  man 
signalled  to  them  from  among  the  bushes, 
and  they  knew  that  the  manner  in  which  he 
held  up  his  hand  was  an  overture  of  peace. 
When  he  reached  him  the  white  man  gave 
him  his  hat  as  another  and  further  petition  for 
mercy,  but  he  shot  him  at  once,  first  with  his 


156  The  Boy  General 

gun  and  then  with  arrows.  One  of  the  latter 
entering  his  back,  the  dying  man  struggled  to 
pull  it  through.  Neither  man  was  scalped,  as 
the  elder  was  bald  and  the  younger  had  closely 
cropped  hair. 

This  cruel  story  set  the  blood  of  the  officers 
flowing  hotly.  They  had  already  heard  from 
one  of  the  white  scouts  a  description  of  Rain- 
in-the-face  at  a  sun-dance,  when  he  had  betrayed 
himself  as  the  murderer  of  the  veterinary  sur 
geon,  by  describing  in  triumph  his  beating  out 
the  brains  of  the  old  man  with  his  mallet.  After 
all  this,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  each 
officer  strode  out  of  the  room  with  blazing  eyes. 

Two  Indians,  one  of  them  Iron  Horse,  had 
followed  the  cavalry  up  from  the  Agency  and 
asked  to  see  their  comrade.  The  General  sent 
again  for  Rain-in-the-face.  He  came  into  the 
room  with  clanking  chains  and  with  the  guard 
at  his  heels.  He  was  dressed  in  mourning. 
His  leggings  were  black,  and  his  sable  blanket 
was  belted  by  a  band  of  white  beads.  One  black 
feather  stood  erect  on  his  head.  Iron  Horse 
supposed  that  he  was  to  be  hanged  at  once,  and 
that  this  would  be  the  final  interview.  The 
elder  brother,  believing  there  was  no  hope,  was 
very  solemn.  He  removed  his  heavily  beaded 
and  embroidered  buffalo-robe,  and  replaced  it 


Capture  of  Rain-in-t  he-Face        157 

with  the  plain  one  that  Rain-in-the-face  wore. 
He  exchanged  pipes  also,  giving  him  his  highly 
ornamented  one  that  he  might  present  it  to  the 
General.  Then  finding  that  there  was  a  pros 
pect  of  Rain-in-the-face  having  his  trial  in 
Washington,  he  took  off  the  medal  that  had 
been  given  to  his  father  by  a  former  President, 
whose  likeness  was  in  the  medallion,  and  placed 
it  over  the  neck  of  his  brother,  that  it  might  be 
a  silent  argument  in  his  favor  when  he  con 
fronted  the  "  Great  Father." 

It  was  a  melancholy  scene.  Iron  Horse 
charged  his  brother  not  to  attempt  to  escape. 
He  believed  that  he  would  be  kindly  treated 
while  a  captive,  and  perhaps  the  white  chief 
would  intercede  for  him  to  obtain  his  pardon. 
After  asking  him  not  to  lose  courage,  they 
smoked  again,  and  silently  withdrew.  In  about 
ten  days  Iron  Horse  returned,  bringing  a  por 
tion  of  his  tribe  with  him. 

A  New  York  Charity  Ball  could  bring  out  no 
more  antique  heirlooms,  nor  take  more  time  in 
preparations  than  the  costumes  of  Indians  pre 
pared  for  council.  The  war-bonnets,  shields, 
and  necklaces  of  bear's  claws  are  all  handed 
down  from  far-away  grandfathers,  and  only 
aired  on  grand  occasions.  Every  available  bit 
of  metal  that  could  catch  the  light  reflected  and 


158  The  Boy   General 

shone  in  the  morning-  sun.  The  belts  were 
covered  with  brass  nails,  shining  with  many  an 
hour's  polishing.  They  had  many  weapons,  all 
kept  in  a  brilliant  and  glistening  state.  The 
tomahawk  is  one  of  the  heirlooms  of  the  collec 
tion  of  arms.  It  looks  like  a  large  ice-pick.  The 
knife,  pistol,  and  Henry  rifle  are  very  modern, 
and  are  always  kept  in  the  most  perfect  condi 
tion.  Mrs.  "  Lo  "  is  the  Venus  who  prepares 
Mars  for  war,  and  many  a  long  weary  hour  she 
spends  in  polishing  the  weapon  and  adorning 
the  warrior. 

The  Indians  with  Iron  Horse  came  directly 
to  head-quarters  and  asked  for  a  council.  As 
many  as  could  get  into  the  General's  room  en 
tered.  There  was  time,  while  they  were  pre 
paring,  to  send  for  the  ladies,  and  a  few  of  us 
were  tucked  away  on  the  lounge,  with  injunc 
tions  not  to  move  or  whisper,  for  my  husband 
treated  these  Indians  as  if  they  had  been 
crowned  heads.  The  Indians  turned  a  sur 
prised,  rather  scornful  glance  into  the  "  ladies' 
gallery."  In  return  for  this  we  did  not  hesitate 
to  criticise  their  toilets.  They  were  gorgeous 
in  full  dress.  Iron  Horse  wore  an  elaborately 
beaded  and  painted  buckskin  shirt,  with  masses 
of  solid  embroidery  of  porcupine  quills.  The 
sleeves  and  shoulders  were  ornamented  with  a 


Capture  of  Rain-in-t  he-Face        159 

fringe  of  scalp-locks ;  some  of  the  hair,  we  saw 
with  a  shudder,  was  light  and  waving.  I  could 
not  but  picture  the  little  head  from  which  it 
had  been  taken.  The  chief  wore  on  his  shoul 
ders  a  sort  of  cape,  trimmed  with  a  fringe  of 
snowy  ermine  ;  his  leggings  and  moccasins  were 
a  mass  of  bead-work.  He  wore  a  cap  of  otter, 
without  a  crown,  for  it  is  their  custom  to  leave 
the  top  of  the  head  uncovered.  His  hair  was 
wound  round  and  round  with  strips  of  otter 
that  hung  down  his  back  ;  the  scalp-lock  was 
also  tightly  wound.  Three  eagle  feathers,  that 
denote  the  number  of  warriors  killed,  were  so 
fastened  to  the  lock  that  they  stood  erect. 
There  were  several  perforations  in  each  ear 
from  which  depended  bead  ear-rings.  He  had 
armlets  of  burnished  brass  ;  thrown  around  him 
was  a  beaded  blanket.  The  red  clay  pipe  had 
the  wooden  stem  inlaid  with  silver,  and  was 
embellished  with  the  breast  feathers  of  brill 
iantly  plumaged  birds.  The  tobacco-bag,  about 
two  feet  long,  had  not  an  inch  that  was  not 
decorated. 

The  next  in  rank  had  an  immense  buffalo-robe 
as  the  distinguishing  feature  of  his  dress.  The 
inside  was  tanned  almost  white,  and  his  history 
was  painted  on  the  surface.  Whoever  ran 
might  read,  for  it  represented  only  two  scenes, 


160  The  Boy  General 

oft  repeated — the  killing  and  scalping  of  war 
riors  and  the  capture  of  ponies. 

The  General's  patience  with  Indians  always 
surprised  me.  I  have  often  wondered  how  he 
contained  himself  waiting  an  hour  or  more  for 
them  to  get  at  the  object  of  their  visit.  They 
took  their  places  according  to  rank  in  a  semi 
circle  about  the  General.  The  pipe  was  filled 
and  a  match  lighted  by  one  of  their  number  of 
inferior  grade,  and  then  handed  to  Iron  Horse, 
who  took  a  few  leisurely  whiffs.  Though  we 
were  so  shut  in,  the  smoke  was  not  oppressive. 
Their  tobacco  is  killikinick,  prepared  by  drying 
the  bark  of  the  ozier  and  mixing  it  with  sumach. 
After  all  in  the  first  circle  had  smoked  a  little, 
the  General  included,  they  observed  the  Indian 
etiquette  and  passed  the  pipe  back  through  each 
warrior's  hand  to  the  chief.  It  was  then  re 
lighted,  and  he  began  again.  It  seemed  to  us 
that  it  went  back  and  forth  an  endless  number 
of  times.  No  matter  how  pressing  the  emer 
gency,  every  council  begins  in  this  manner. 

When  the  pipe  was  finally  put  away,  they 
asked  to  have  Rain-in-the-face  present.  He 
came  into  the  room,  trying  to  hide  his  pleasure 
at  seeing  his  friends  and  his  grief  at  his  impris 
onment,  but  in  an  instant  the  stolid  expression 
settled  down  on  his  face  like  a  curtain.  The 


THE    BATTLE-FIELD    OF    THE    LITTLE    BIG    HORN. 


Capture  of  Rain-in-the-Face        161 

officers  present  could  scarcely  believe  their  eyes 
when  they  saw  his  brother  approach  and  kiss 
him.  Only  once  before,  among  all  the  tribes 
they  had  been  with,  had  they  seen  such  an  oc 
currence.  The  Indian  kiss  is  not  demonstra 
tive  ;  the  lips  are  laid  softly  on  the  cheek,  and 
no  sound  is  heard  or  motion  made.  It  was  only 
this  grave  occasion  that  induced  the  chief  to 
show  such  feeling.  Several  of  the  ranking  Ind 
ians  followed  his  example;  then  an  old  man 
among  them  stepped  in  front  of  Rain-in-the- 
face,  lifted  his  hands,  and  raising  his  eyes  rev 
erentially  said  a  few  words  of  prayer  to  the 
Great  Spirit  in  behalf  of  their  unfortunate 
brother. 

Iron  Horse  began  his  speech  in  the  usual  high- 
pitched,  unchangeable  key.  He  thanked  the 
General  for  his  care  of  his  brother,  and  begged 
him  to  ask  the  Great  Father  in  Washington 
to  spare  his  life.  He  then  slowly  took  off  his 
elaborate  buckskin  shirt  and  presented  it  to  my 
husband.  He  ended  by  making  a  singular  re 
quest,  which  was  worthy  of  Damon  and  Pythias : 
two  shy  young  braves  in  the  outer  circle  of  the 
untitled  asked  permission,  through  their  chief, 
to  share  the  captivity  of  Rain-in-the-face. 

Consent  was  given  to  the  comrades  to  return 
to  the  guard-house,  but  they  were  required  to 


1 62  The  Boy   General 

remain  in  confinement  as  he  did  until  they  were 
ready  to  return  to  the  reservation.  After  all  the 
ranking  Indians  had  followed  Iron  Horse  in 
speeches,  with  long,  maundering  sentences,  the 
pipe  was  again  produced.  When  it  was  smoked, 
the  whole  band  filed  out  to  eat  the  food  the 
General  had  given  them,  and  soon  afterward 
disappeared  down  the  valley. 

After  his  two  friends  had  left  him,  Rain-in- 
the-face  occupied  a  part  of  the  guard-house  with 
a  citizen  who  had  been  caught  stealing  grain 
from  the  storehouse.  For  several  months  they 
were  chained  together,  and  used  to  walk  in 
front  of  the  little  prison  for  exercise  and  air. 
The  guard-house  was  a  poorly  built  wooden 
building.  After  a  time  the  sentinels  became 
less  vigilant,  and  the  citizen,  with  help  from  his 
friends  outside,  who  were  working  in  the  same 
way,  cut  a  hole  in  the  wall  at  night  and  escaped. 
He  broke  the  chain  attaching  him  to  the  Indian, 
who  was  left  free  to  follow.  Rain-in-the-face 
did  not  dare  to  return  to  the  reservation,  but 
made  his  way  to  the  hostile  camp.  In  the 
spring  of  1874  he  sent  word  from  there  by  an 
Agency  Indian  that  he  had  joined  Sitting  Bull, 
and  was  awaiting  his  revenge. 

The  stained  waters  of  the  Little  Big  Horn, 
on  June  25,  1876,  told  how  deadly  and  fatal  that 


An  Indian   Council  163 

was.  It  was  found  on  the  battle-field  that  he 
had  cut  out  the  brave  heart  of  that  gallant, 
loyal,  and  lovable  man,  our  brother  Tom. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

AN    INDIAN     COUNCIL 

THE  Indians  came  several  times  from  the 
reservations  for  counsel,  but  the  occasion  that 
made  the  greatest  impression  upon  me  was 
toward  the  spring.  They  came  to  implore 
the  General  for  food.  In  the  fall  the  steamer 
bringing  them  supplies  was  detained  in  start 
ing.  It  had  hardly  accomplished  half  the  re 
quired  distance  before  the  ice  impeded  its 
progress,  and  it  lay  out  in  the  channel,  frozen 
in,  all  winter.  The  suffering  among  the  Ind 
ians  was  great.  They  were  compelled  to  eat 
their  dogs  and  ponies  to  keep  from  starving. 
Believing  a  personal  appeal  would  be  effect 
ual,  they  asked  to  come  to  our  post  for  a 
council. 

The  Indian  band  brought  their  great  orator, 
Running  Antelope.  He  was  intensely  digni 
fied  and  fine-looking.  His  face  when  he  spoke 
was  expressive  and  animated.  As  he  stood 


164  The  Boy   General 

among-  them  in  the  General's  room,  he  made  an 
indelible  impression  on  my  memory.  The  Ind 
ians'  feet  are  usually  small ;  sometimes  their 
vanity  induces  them  to  put  on  women's  shoes. 
The  hands  are  slender  and  marvellously  soft 
considering  their  life  of  exposure.  Their 
speech  is  full  of  gesture,  and  the  flexible  wrist 
makes  their  movements  expressive.  A  distin 
guished  scholar,  speaking  of  the  aid  the  hand 
is  to  an  orator,  calls  it  the  "  second  face."  It 
certainly  was  so  with  Running  Antelope.  He 
described  the  distressing  condition  of  the  tribe 
with  real  eloquence.  While  he  spoke,  lifting 
his  graceful  hands  toward  Heaven  in  appeal, 
one  of  my  husband's  birds  that  was  uncaged 
floated  down  and  alighted  on  the  venera 
ble  warrior's  head.  It  maintained  its  poise, 
spreading  its  wings  to  keep  its  balance,  as  the 
Indian  moved  his  head  in  gesture.  Finally  the 
bird  whirled  up  to  his  favorite  resting-place 
on  the  horn  of  the  buffalo  head,  and  the  war 
rior  understood  the  unusual  sight  of  a  smile 
from  his  people. 

His  whole  appeal  was  most  impressive,  and 
touched  the  quick  sympathies  of  my  husband. 
The  storehouses  at  our  post  were  filled  with 
supplies,  and  he  promised  to  telegraph  to  the 
Great  Father  for  permission  to  give  them  ra- 


An  Indian  Council  165 

tions  until  spring.  Meantime,  he  promised 
them  all  they  could  eat  while  they  awaited  at 
the  post  the  answer  to  the  despatch.  Not  con 
tent  with  a  complaint  of  their  present  wrongs, 
Running  Antelope  denounced  the  agents,  call 
ing  them  dishonest. 

One  of  the  Indians,  during  the  previous  sum 
mer,  with  fox-like  cunning  had  lain  out  on 
the  dock  all  day  apparently  sleeping,  while  he 
watched  the  steamer  unloading  supplies  in 
tended  for  them.  A  mental  estimate  was  care 
fully  made  of  what  came  off  the  boat,  and  com 
pared  as  carefully  afterward  with  what  was 
distributed.  A  portion  that  should  have  been 
theirs  was  detained,  and  they  accused  the 
agent  of  keeping  it.  The  General  interrupted, 
and  asked  the  interpreter  to  say  that  the  Great 
Father  selected  the  agents  from  among  good 
men  before  sending  them  out  from  Washing 
ton.  Running  Antelope  quickly  responded, 
"  They  may  be  good  men  when  they  leave  the 
Great  Father,  but  they  get  to  be  desperate 
cheats  by  the  time  they  reach  us." 

When  the  council  was  ended  and  the  Indians 
were  preparing  to  leave,  my  husband  asked  me 
to  have  Mary  put  everything  we  had  ready  to 
eat  on  the  dining-room  table.  The  stately  man 
ner  in  which  Running  Antelope  folded  his  robe 


1 66  The  Boy  General 

around  him  and  strode  down  the  long  parlor 
was  worthy  of  a  Roman  emperor. 

I  had  been  so  impressed  by  his  oratory  and 
lordly  mien  that  I  could  hardly  believe  my 
eyes  when  I  saw  him  at  table.  After  gorging 
himself,  he  emptied  the  plates  and  swept  all 
the  remains  from  before  the  places  of  the  other 
chiefs  into  the  capacious  folds  of  his  robe. 
This  he  rebelted  at  the  waist,  so  that  it  formed 
a  very  good  temporary  haversack.  With  an 
air  signifying  to  "the  victor  belong  the  spoils," 
he  swept  majestically  out  of  the  house. 

The  answer  came  next  day  from  the  Secre 
tary  of  War  that  the  Department  of  the  Inte 
rior,  which  had  the  Indians  in  charge,  refused 
to  allow  any  army  supplies  to  be  distributed. 
They  gave  as  a  reason  that  it  would  involve 
complexities  in  their  relations  with  other  de 
partments.  It  was  a  very  difficult  thing  for 
the  General  to  explain  to  the  Indians.  They 
knew  that  both  army  and  Indians  were  fed 
from  the  same  source,  and  they  could  not  com 
prehend  what  difference  it  could  make  when 
a  question  of  starvation  was  pending.  They 
could  not  be  told,  what  we  all  knew,  that  had 
the  War  Department  made  good  the  deficien 
cies  it  would  have  reflected  discredit  on  the 
management  of  the  Department  of  the  Interior. 


Life  on  the  Reservation  167 

The  chiefs  were  compelled  to  return  to  their 
reservations,  where  long  ago  all  the  game  had 
been  shot,  and  their  famishing  tribe  were  many 
of  them  driven  to  join  the  hostiles.  We  were 
not  surprised  that  the  warriors  were  discour 
aged  and  desperate,  and  that  the  depredations 
of  Sitting  Bull  on  the  settlements  increased 
with  the  new  accessions  to  his  numbers. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

LIFE   ON   THE   RESERVATION 

THE  day  of  the  final  breaking  up  of  the  ice 
in  the  Missouri  was  one  of  great  excitement  to 
us.  The  roar  and  crash  of  the  ice-fields  could 
be  heard  a  great  distance.  The  sound  of  the 
tremendous  report  was  the  signal  for  the  whole 
garrison  to  go  out  on  the  hill  near  the  infantry 
post  and  watch  the  grand  sight.  Just  above 
us  was  a  bend  in  the  river,  and  around  this 
curve  great  floes  of  ice  rushed,  heaping  up  in 
huge  masses  as  they  swept  down  the  furious 
current.  All  the  lowlands  that  lay  between 
Bismarck  and  the  river  were  inundated,  and 
the  shore  far  in  covered  with  blocks  of  ice. 
Just  across  the  river  from  us  was  a  wretched 


1 68  The  Boy  General 

little  collection  of  huts,  occupied  by  outlaws, 
into  which  the  soldiers  were  decoyed  to  drink 
and  gamble.  The  law  forbidding  liquor  to  be 
sold  on  the  reservation  was  so  strict  that 
whiskey  venders  did  not  dare  set  foot  on  the 
Government  land.  The  reservation  was  too 
large  to  permit  them  to  place  themselves  on 
its  other  boundaries ;  they  would  have  been  at 
such  a  distance  from  the  post  that  it  would 
not  have  been  worth  while.  Just  on  the  wa 
ter's  edge  opposite,  these  human  fiends  had 
perched  to  watch  and  entice  the  enlisted  men. 

These  shanties  were  placed  on  a  little  rise  of 
ground,  with  a  precautionary  thought  of  the 
usual  spring  floods.  The  day  of  the  first  ice- 
breaking  we  saw  the  water  rise  to  such  a  height 
that  cabin  after  cabin  was  abandoned.  The  oc 
cupants  dragged  their  property  to  a  little  higher 
rise  where  one  or  two,  more  cautious  than  the 
rest,  had  built.  On  this  narrow  neck  of  land 
huddled  together  the  whole  of  the  group,  in  des 
perate  peril.  No  one  on  our  side  of  the  river 
could  help  them,  for  the  water  was  the  maddest 
of  whirlpools,  while  on  the  other  side  the  over 
flow  had  made  a  great  lake,  cutting  them  off 
from  Bismarck.  As  we  watched  them  scram 
bling  on  the  little  knoll,  like  drowning  men 
clinging  to  the  upturned  keel  of  a  boat,  we 


Life  on  the  Reservation  169 

suffered  real  distress  at  our  powerlessness  to 
help  them.  At  last  one  of  them  stepped  into 
the  only  small  boat  they  had  been  able  to  re 
tain,  and  standing  bravely  at  the  side  of  the 
one  man  at  the  bow,  both  were  swept  down 
the  river  out  of  sight  among  the  gorge  of  ice- 
blocks  and  never  again  heard  from.  It  was 
too  exhausting  watching  these  imperilled  be 
ings,  knowing  how  incapable  we  were  of  help 
ing  them,  and  we  went  back  to  our  quarters  to 
spend  hours  of  suspense.  We  could  not  set 
ourselves  about  doing  anything  while  the  lives 
of  human  beings  so  near  us  were  in  jeopardy. 
As  day  began  to  close,  word  came  that  the 
water  was  subsiding ;  not,  alas,  until  some  of 
them  had  been  borne  to  their  last  home. 
Those  that  were  left  waded  back  to  their  huts, 
and,  unheeding  the  warning  of  that  fearful  day, 
began  again  their  same  miserable  existence. 

Of  all  our  happy  days,  the  happiest  pres 
ently  came  to  us  at  Fort  Lincoln.  Life  grew 
more  enjoyable  every  day  as  we  realized  the 
blessings  of  our  home.  I  have  seen  my  hus 
band,  with  all  the  abandon  of  a  boy,  throw 
himself  on  a  rug  in  front  of  the  fire  and  enumer 
ate  his  blessings  with  real  gratitude.  Speak 
ing  of  his  regiment  first,  his  district  (for  he 
then  had  five  posts  under  his  command),  the 


170  The  Boy  General 

hunting,  his  dogs  and  horses,  and*  his  own 
room,  which  was  an  unceasing  delight,  he 
used  to  declare  to  me  that  he  would  not  ex 
change  places  with  any  one — not  even  a  friend 
in  civil  life  who  stood  at  the  head  of  his  pro 
fession  as  a  journalist,  who  had  wealth  and 
youth,  and  who  lived  in  almost  princely  lux 
ury. 

When  spring  came  again,  it  is  impossible  to 
express  the  joy  I  felt  that  there  was  to  be  no 
summer  campaign  ;  and  for  the  first  time  in 
many  years  I  saw  the  grass  grow  without  a 
shudder.  The  General  began  the  improve 
ment  of  the  post  with  fresh  energy,  and  from 
the  drill-ground  came  the  click  of  the  horses' 
hoofs  and  the  note  of  the  bugles  repeating  the 
commands  of  the  officers.  As  soon  as  it  was 
warm  enough,  several  charming  girls  came  out 
from  the  States  to  our  garrison  to  visit  us. 
They  gave  every  one  pleasure,  and  effectually 
turned  the  heads  of  the  young  officers. 

Almost  our  only  exercise  on  summer  even 
ings  was  walking  on  the  outskirts  of  the  gar 
rison  surrounded  by  the  dogs.  It  was  danger 
ous  to  go  far,  but  we  could  walk  with  safety 
in  the  direction  of  the  huts  of  the  Indian 
scouts.  Their  life  always  interested  us,  and 
by  degrees  they  became  so  accustomed  to  our 


Life  on  the  Reservation  171 

presence  that  they  went  on  with  all  their  oc 
cupations  without  heeding  us. 

There  was  a  variety  of  articles  among  the 
litter  tossed  down  in  front  of  these  Indian 
quarters  ;  lariats,  saddles,  and  worn-out  robes 
were  heaped  about  an  arrangement  for  con 
veying  their  property  from  place  to  place. 
The  construction  was  simple,  and  rendered 
wheels  unnecessary.  About  midway  on  two 
long  saplings,  placed  a  short  distance  apart, 
is  a  foundation  of  leather  thongs.  Upon 
this  the  effects  belonging  to  an  Indian  family 
are  lashed.  Two  pole -ends  are  attached  to 
either  side  of  a  rude  harness  on  the  pony, 
while  the  other  two  drag  on  the  ground.  In 
following  an  Indian  trail,  the  indentation  made 
by  the  poles,  as  they  are  pulled  over  the 
ground,  traces  the  course  of  travel  unmistak 
ably. 

Some  of  their  boats  lay  upturned  about  the 
door.  They  were  perfectly  round,  like  a  great 
bowl,  and  composed  of  a  wicker  frame  over 
which  buffalo  hide  was  tightly  drawn.  The 
primitive  shape  and  construction  dates  back  to 
the  ancient  Egyptians,  and  these  boats  were 
called  coracles  in  olden  times.  They  seemed 
barely  large  enough  to  hold  two  Indians,  who 
were  obliged  to  crouch  down  as  they  paddled 


172  The  Boy  General 

their  way  with  short,  awkward  oars  through 
the  rapid  current  of  the  Missouri. 

One  of  the  scouts,  Bloody  Knife,  was  nat 
urally  mournful ;  his  face  still  looked  sad  when 
he  put  on  the  presents  given  him.  He  was  a 
perfect  child  about  gifts,  and  the  General 
studied  to  bring  him  something  from  the  East 
that  no  other  Indian  had. 

He  had  proved  himself  such  an  invaluable 
scout  to  the  General  that  they  often  had  long 
interviews.  Seated  on  the  grass,  the  dogs  ly 
ing  about  them,  they  talked  over  portions  of 
the  country  that  the  General  had  never  seen, 
the  scout  drawing  excellent  maps  in  the  sand 
with  a  pointed  stick.  He  was  sometimes  pet 
ulant,  often  moody,  and  it  required  the  utmost 
patience  on  my  husband's  part  to  submit  to  his 
humors ;  but  his  fidelity  and  cleverness  made 
it  worth  while  to  yield  to  his  tempers. 

I  was  always  interested  in  the  one  pretty 
squaw  among  them,  Medicine  Mother.  Her 
husband  was  young  and  she  was  devoted  to 
him.  I  have  seen  him  lounging  on  the  floor 
of  the  hut  while  she  made  his  toilet,  combing 
and  plaiting  his  hair,  cutting  and  oiling  the 
bangs  which  were  trimmed  to  cover  his  fore 
head,  and  plucking  the  few  scattered  hairs 
from  his  chin — for  they  do  not  consider  it  an 


Life  on  the  Reservation  173 

honor  to  have  a  suspicion  of  a  beard.  She 
strapped  on  his  leggings,  buckled  his  belt,  and 
finally  lighted  his  pipe.  Once  the  war-bonnet 
of  her  lord  had  to  be  rearranged.  He  deigned 
to  put  it  on  her  head,  readjusted  the  eagle- 
feathers,  and  then  gave  it  to  her  to  fasten 
them  in  securely.  The  faithful  slave  even  used 
to  accompany  him  to  his  bath.  Indians  do 
bathe  —  at  long  intervals;  I  have  seen  him, 
at  a  distance,  running  along  the  river-bank  on 
his  return,  his  wife  waving  a  blanket  behind 
him  to  keep  off  the  mosquitoes ! 

If  the  Indians  kill  any  game,  they  return 
home,  order  the  squaws  to  take  the  ponies  and 
bring  back  what  they  have  killed,  and  then 
throw  themselves  down  to  sleep  among  the 
sprawling  Indian  babies,  tailless  dogs,  and  gen 
eral  filth.  The  squaws  do  all  the  labor,  and 
every  skin  is  tanned  by  their  busy  fingers.  I 
never  knew  more  than  one  Indian  who  worked. 
He  was  an  object  of  interest  to  me,  though  he 
kept  himself  within  the  gloom  of  the  cabin,  and 
skulked  around  the  fire  when  he  cooked.  This 
was  the  occupation  forced  upon  him  by  the 
others.  He  had  lacked  the  courage  to  endure 
the  torture  of  the  sun-dance ;  for  when  strips 
of  flexible  wood  had  been  drawn  through  the 
gashes  in  his  back,  and  he  was  hung  up  by 


174  The  Boy  General 

these,  the  poor  creature  had  fainted.  On  re 
viving  he  begged  to  be  cut  down,  and  ever 
after  was  an  object  of  scorn.  He  was  con 
demned  to  wear  squaw's  clothing  from  that 
time  on.  They  mocked  and  taunted  him,  and 
he  led  as  separate  an  existence  as  if  he  were 
in  a  desert  alone.  The  squaws  disdained  to 
notice  him,  except  to  heap  work  upon  his  al 
ready  burdened  shoulders. 

Once  my  husband  and  I,  in  walking,  came 
suddenly  upon  a  queer  little  mound,  that  we 
concluded  we  would  observe  at  a  distance. 
An  Indian  was  seen  carrying  buckets  and 
creeping  with  difficulty  into  the  small  door. 
It  was  about  six  feet  in  diameter,  and  proved 
to  be  a  kind  of  steam-bath,  which  they  consider 
great  medicine.  A  hole  is  first  dug  in  the 
ground  and  filled  with  stones  ;  a  fire  is  kindled 
upon  them  long  before,  and  they  are  heated 
red  hot.  The  round  framework  of  saplings 
over  these  is  covered  with  layer  upon  layer  of 
blankets  and  robes,  so  that  no  air  can  pen 
etrate.  The  Indians,  almost  stripped  of  their 
clothing,  crouch  round  them,  while  the  one 
acting  as  servant  brings  water  to  pour  on  the 
heated  rocks.  The  steam  has  no  escape,  and 
the  Indians  are  thoroughly  roasted.  While  we 
were  looking  at  this  curious  bath-house  a  small 


Life  on  the  Reservation  175 

Indian  boy  crept  out  from  under  the  edges  of 
the  blankets,  and  ashamed  to  have  given  in 
before  the  rest,  drew  his  almost  parboiled  little 
body  into  a  hiding-place. 

We  went  one  day  into  a  tepee  that  was 
placed  by  itself  to  see  an  Indian  who  was  only 
slightly  ill.  His  father  and  friends  were  talk 
ing  to  him  of  his  death  as  a  certainty,  and 
making  all  the  plans  in  advance.  They  even 
took  his  measure  for  a  coffin,  assuring  him  that 
they  would  honor  him  by  putting  him  in  a  box 
in  imitation  of  the  white  man. 

The  Indians  all  seemed  a  melancholy  people. 
They  sometimes  ask  embarrassing  questions. 
Once  they  inquired  of  the  General  if  our  young 
lady  guest  was  his  other  wife.  The  blush  of 
the  girl  so  amused  us  that  our  laugh  rang  out 
among  them,  and  seemed  to  be  a  sound  they 
knew  nothing  of.  They  sat  on  the  ground  for 
hours,  gambling  for  iron,  brass,  and  silver 
rings,  but  always  glum  and  taciturn.  The  tall 
est  Indian  of  them  all,  Long  Soldier,  grew  to 
be  very  cunning  when  he  learned  what  a  cu 
riosity  he  was.  He  would  crouch  down  at 
our  approach,  and  only  at  the  sight  of  a  coin 
as  a  "  tip  "  would  he  draw  up  his  seven  feet  of 
height. 

As  the  soldiers  and  citizens  all  knew  the  Gen- 


176  The  Boy  General 

eral's  love  of  pets,  we  had  constant  presents. 
Many  of  them  I  would  have  gladly  declined, 
but  notwithstanding-  a  badger,  a  porcupine,  a 
raccoon,  a  prairie-dog,  and  a  wild  turkey,  all 
served  their  brief  time  as  members  of  our  family. 
They  were  comparatively  harmless,  but  a  wild 
cat  was  sent  to  us  which  the  General  shipped  to 
the  States,  as  a  present  to  one  of  the  zoological 
gardens ;  in  its  way  it  was  a  treasure.  While 
it  remained  with  us  it  was  kept  in  the  cellar. 
Mary  used  to  make  many  retreats,  tumbling 
up  the  stairs,  when  the  cat  flew  at  her  the 
length  of  its  chain.  She  was  startled  so  often 
that  at  last  she  joined  with  me  in  requesting 
its  removal  as  soon  as  convenient.  The  Gen 
eral  regretted  giving  it  up,  but  Keevan  was 
called  to  chloroform  and  box  it  for  the  jour 
ney.  Lieutenant  Tom  printed  on  the  slats  of 
the  cover  something  like  "  Do  not  fondle."  It 
was  superfluous,  for  no  one  could  approach 
the  box,  after  the  effects  of  the  chloroform 
had  passed  away,  without  encountering  the 
fiery-red  eyes,  and  such  scratchings  and  spit 
tings  and  mad  plunges  as  suggested  keeping 
one's  distance.  Some  detention  kept  the 
freight-train  at  a  station  over  Sunday  ;  the  box 
with  the  wild-cat  was  put  in  the  baggage-room. 
The  violence  of  the  animal  as  it  leaped  and 


Leave  of  Absence  177 

tore  at  the  cover  loosened  the  slats,  and  it  es 
caped  into  the  room.  The  freight  agent  spent 
a  wretched  day.  Chloroform  was  again  resort 
ed  to,  and  it  was  deemed  a  good  riddance 
when  the  animal  was  sent  off. 

At  one  time  the  General  tamed  a  tiny  field- 
mouse,  and  kept  it  in  a  large,  empty  ink-stand 
on  his  desk.  It  grew  very  fond  of  him,  and 
ran  over  his  head  and  shoulders,  and  even 
through  his  hair.  The  General,  thinking  at 
last  that  it  was  cruel  to  detain  the  little  thing 
in-doors  when  it  belonged  by  nature  to  the 
fields,  took  it  out  and  left  it  on  the  plain.  The 
kindness  was  of  no  use;  like  the  oft-quoted 
prisoner  of  the  Bastile,  it  was  back  again  at 
the  steps  in  no  time,  and  preferred  captivity  to 
freedom. 


CHAPTER  XX 

LEAVE  OF  ABSENCE 

IN  the  autumn  of  1875  we  went  into  the 
States,  and  spent  most  of  the  winter  delight 
fully  in  New  York.  We  went  out  a  great  deal. 
Of  course  we  were  compelled  to  dress  very 
plainly,  and  my  husband  made  great  sport  of 
his  only  citizen  overcoat— an  ulster.  He  de- 


178  The  Boy   General 

clared  that  it  belonged  so  to  the  past  that  he 
was  the  only  man  besides  the  car-drivers  that 
wore  one.  It  did  not  disturb  him  in  the  least ; 
neither  did  going  in  the  horse-cars  to  recep 
tions  and  dinners.  He  used  laughingly  to  say, 
"  Our  Coachman  wears  our  livery,  Libbie," 
when  the  car-driver  had  on  an  army  overcoat. 
No  one  so  perfectly  independent  as  he  was 
could  fail  to  enjoy  everything. 

Every  one  seemed  to  vie  with  every  one  else 
in  showing  appreciation  of  my  husband  during 
that  winter.  He  dined  often  with  men  who 
learned  to  draw  him  out  in  talk  of  his  Plains 
life.  While  in  the  midst  of  some  story,  the 
butler  would  pass  him  a  dish  that  he  espe 
cially  liked.  The  host  at  once  directed  the  man 
to  pass  on,  and  told  my  husband  that  he  could 
not  spare  time  for  him  to  eat  while  they  were 
impatient  for  the  rest  of  the  tale.  After  going 
hungry  once  or  twice,  the  General  learned  to 
dine  with  me  before  he  left  the  hotel,  so  that  he 
might  be  free  to  give  himself  up  to  others. 

He  repeated  a  story  to  me  about  Ole  Bull, 
who  was  asked  to  dinner  and  requested  to  bring 
his  violin.  He  accepted  for  himself,  but  sent 
word  that  his  violin  did  not  dine.  My  husband 
made  a  personal  application  of  the  story,  and 
threatened,  playfully,  to  send  word  that  his  Ind- 


Leave  of  Absence  179 

ian  stones  did  not  dine.  At  the  Century  Club 
he  received  from  distinguished  men  the  most 
cordial  congratulations  on  his  essay  into  the 
literary  field.  They  urged  him  to  continue  the 
work.  Some  of  the  authors  he  met  there  were 
twice  his  age,  and  he  received  each  word  they 
said  with  deep  gratitude.  My  husband  knew 
how  I  valued  every  expression  of  appreciation 
of  him,  and  he  used  to  awaken  me,  when  he 
returned,  to  tell  me  what  was  said.  He  never 
failed  to  preface  every  such  reluctant  repetition 
by  exacting  promises  of  secrecy.  He  feared 
that  in  my  wifely  pride  I  might  repeat  what  he 
told  me,  and  it  would  look  like  conceit  on  his 
part.  In  February  we  had  to  say  good-by  to 
New  York  life.  Our  friends  asked  us  why  we 
went  so  soon.  In  army  life  it  is  perfectly  nat 
ural  to  speak  of  one's  financial  condition,  and  it 
did  not  occur  to  us  that  civilians  do  not  do  the 
same.  I  do  not  wonder  now  that  they  opened 
their  eyes  with  well-bred  astonishment  when 
we  said  we  were  obliged  to  go  because  we  had 
used  all  the  money  we  had  saved  for  leave  of 
absence. 

When  we  reached  St.  Paul  the  prospect  be 
fore  us  was  dismal,  as  the  trains  were  not  to  be 
gin  running  until  April.  The  railroad  officials, 
mindful  of  what  the  General  had  done  for  them 


180  The  Boy  General 

in  protecting  their  advance  workers  in  the  build 
ing  of  the  road,  came  and  offered  to  open  the 
route.  Sending  us  through  on  a  special  train 
was  a  great  undertaking,  and  we  had  to  wait 
some  time  for  the  preparations  to  be  completed. 
One  of  the  officers  of  the  road  took  an  engine 
out  some  distance  to  investigate,  and  it  looked 
discouraging  enough  when  he  sprang  down 
from  the  cab  on  his  return  in  a  complete  coat 
ing  of  ice. 

The  train  on  which  we  finally  started  was  an 
immense  one,  and  certainly  a  curiosity.  There 
were  two  snow-ploughs  and  three  enormous  en 
gines  ;  freight-cars  with  coal  supplies  and  bag 
gage  ;  several  cattle-cars,  with  stock  belonging 
to  the  Black  Hills  miners  who  filled  the  passen 
ger-coaches.  There  was  an  eating-house,  loom 
ing  up  above  everything,  built  on  a  flat  car.  In 
this  car  the  forty  employees  of  the  road,  who 
were  taken  to  shovel  snow,  etc.,  were  fed.  There 
were  several  day-coaches,  with  army  recruits 
and  a  few  passengers,  and  last  of  all  the  pay 
master's  car,  which  my  husband  and  I  occupied. 
This  had  a  kitchen  and  a  sitting-room.  At  first 
everything  went  smoothly.  The  cook  on  our 
car  gave  us  excellent  things  to  eat,  and  we  slept 
soundly.  It  was  intensely  cold,  but  the  little 
stove  in  the  sitting-room  was  kept  filled  con- 


Leave  of  Absence  181 

stantly.  Sometimes  we  came  to  drifts,  and  the 
train  would  stop  with  a  violent  jerk,  start  again, 
and  once  more  come  to  a  stand-still,  with  such 
force  that  the  dishes  would  fall  from  the  table. 
The  train-men  were  ordered  out,  and  after  en 
ergetic  work  the  track  was  again  clear  and  we 
went  on.  One  day  the  engines  whistled,  and 
we  were  shooting  on  finely  when  the  speed  was 
checked  so  suddenly  that  the  little  stove  fairly 
danced,  and  our  belongings  flew  through  the 
car  from  end  to  end.  After  this  there  was  an 
exodus  from  the  cars  ;  every  one  went  to  in 
quire  as  to  the  ominous  stop.  Before  our  train 
there  seemed  to  be  a  wall  of  ice ;  we  had  come 
to  a  gully  which  was  almost  filled  with  drifts. 
The  cars  were  all  backed  down  some  distance 
and  detached  ;  the  snow-ploughs  and  engines 
having  thus  full  sweep,  all  the  steam  possible 
was  put  on,  and  they  began  what  they  called 
"  bucking  the  drifts."  This  did  a  little  good 
at  first,  and  we  made  some  progress  through 
the  gully.  After  one  tremendous  dash,  how 
ever,  the  ploughs  and  one  engine  were  so  deep 
ly  embedded  that  they  could  not  be  withdrawn. 
The  employees  dug  and  shovelled  until  they 
were  exhausted.  The  Black  Hills  miners  re 
lieved  them  as  long  as  they  could  endure  it; 
then  the  officers  and  recruits  worked  until  they 


1 82  The  Boy   General 

could  do  no  more.  The  impenetrable  bank  of 
snow  was  the  accumulation  of  the  whole  winter, 
first  snowing,  then  freezing,  until  there  were 
successive  layers  of  ice  and  snow. 

Night  was  descending,  and  my  husband,  after 
restlessly  going  in  and  out  to  the  next  car, 
showed  me  that  he  had  some  perplexity  on  his 
mind.  He  described  to  me  the  discomfort  of 
the  officers  and  Bismarck  citizens  in  the  other 
coach  in  not  having  any  place  to  sleep.  His 
meaning  penetrated  at  last,  and  I  said,  "  You 
are  waiting  for  me  to  invite  them  all  to  room 
with  us  ?  "  His  "  exactly  "  assured  me  it  was 
what  he  intended  me  to  do.  So  he  hurried  out 
to  give  them  my  compliments  and  the  invitation. 
The  officers  are  generally  prepared  for  emer 
gencies,  and  they  brought  in  their  blankets;  the 
citizens  left  themselves  to  the  General's  plan 
ning.  In  order  to  make  the  car-blankets  go 
further,  he  made  two  of  the  folding-beds  into 
one  broad  one.  Two  little  berths  on  each  side, 
and  rolls  of  bedding  on  the  floor,  left  only  room 
for  the  stove,  always  heated  to  the  last  degree. 
I  was  invited  to  take  the  place  nearest  the  wall, 
in  the  large  bed ;  then  came  my  husband.  After 
that  I  burrowed  my  head  in  my  pillow,  and  the 
servant  blew  out  some  of  the  candles  and 
brought  in  our  guests.  It  is  unnecessary  for 


Leave  of  Absence  183 

me  to  say  that  I  did  not  see  the  order  in  which 
they  appeared.  The  audible  sleeping  in  our 
bed,  however,  through  the  long  nights  that  fol 
lowed,  convinced  me  that  the  General  had  as 
signed  those  places  to  the  oldest  and  fattest. 
Every  morning  I  awoke  to  find  the  room  empty 
and  all  the  beds  folded  away.  The  General 
brought  me  a  tin  basin  with  ice-water,  and 
helped  me  to  make  a  quick  toilet ;  our  eleven 
visitors  waited  in  the  other  coach,  to  return  to 
breakfast  with  us  in  the  same  room.  Every  one 
made  the  best  of  the  situation,  and  my  husband 
was  as  rollicking  as  ever.  Though  I  tried  to 
conceal  it,  I  soon  lost  heart  entirely. 

The  days  seemed  to  stretch  on  endlessly  ; 
the  snow  was  heaped  up  about  us  and  falling 
steadily.  All  we  could  see  was  the  trackless 
waste  of  white  on  every  side.  The  wind 
whistled  and  moaned  around  the  cars,  and 
great  gusts  rocked  our  frail  little  refuge  from 
side  to  side.  The  snow  that  had  begun  to  fall 
with  a  few  scattered  flakes,  now  came  down 
more  thickly.  I  made  the  best  effort  I  could 
to  be  brave,  and  deceive  them  as  to  my  ter 
rors — I  had  no  other  idea  than  that  we  must 
die  there.  We  tried  to  be  merry  at  our  meals, 
and  made  light  of  the  small  supply.  The  in 
crease  at  the  table  quickly  diminished  our 


184  The  Boy  General 

stores,  and  I  knew  by  the  careful  manner  in 
which  the  wood  was  husbanded  that  it  was 
nearly  gone.  The  General,  always  cool  and 
never  daunted  by  anything,  was  even  more 
blithe,  to  keep  me  from  alarm.  During  those 
anxious  days  it  used  to  seem  strange  to  hear  a 
dinner-bell  through  the  air,  muffled  with  snow. 
For  an  instant  I  was  deluded  into  the  thought 
that  by  some  strange  necromancy  we  had  been 
spirited  on  to  a  station,  and  that  this  was  the 
clang  of  the  eating-house  bell.  It  was  only  the 
call  from  the  car  where  the  employees  were 
fed.  The  lowing  of  the  cattle  and  howling  of 
our  dogs  in  the  forward  cars  were  the  only 
other  sounds  we  heard.  Finally  the  situation 
became  desperate,  and  with  all  their  efforts 
the  officers  could  no  longer  conceal  from  me 
their  concern  for  our  safety. 

Search  was  made  throughout  all  the  train  to 
find  if  there  was  a  man  who  understood  any 
thing  about  telegraphy,  for  among  the  fittings 
stowed  away  in  the  car  a  tiny  battery  had 
been  found,  with  a  pocket-relay.  A  man  was 
finally  discovered  who  knew  something  of 
operating,  and  it  was  decided  to  cut  the  main 
wire.  Then  the  wires  of  the  pocket  -  relay 
were  carried  out  of  our  car  and  fastened  to 
either  end  of  the  cut  wire  outside,  so  making 


Leave  of  Absence  185 

an  unbroken  circuit  between  us  and  our  Lin 
coln  friends,  besides  uniting  us  with  Fargo 
station.  In  a  little  while  the  General  had  an 
answer  from  Lieutenant  Tom  :  "  Shall  I  come 
out  for  you  ?  " 

After  that  we  kept  the  wires  busy,  devising 
plans  for  our  relief.  Our  headlong  brother 
went  to  Bismarck,  and  looked  up  the  best 
stage-driver  in  all  the  territory,  and  hired  him. 
This  driver  was  cool,  intrepid,  and  inured  to 
every  peril.  At  an  old  stage-station  along  the 
route  he  found  relays  of  mules  that  belonged 
to  the  mail-sleigh. 

At  last  a  great  whoop  and  yell,  such  as  was 
peculiar  to  the  Custers,  was  answered  by  the 
General,  and  made  me  aware  for  the  first  time 
that  brother  Tom  was  outside.  I  scolded  him 
for  coming  before  I  thanked  him,  but  he  made 
light  of  the  danger  and  hurried  us  to  get  ready, 
fearing  a  coming  blizzard.  His  arms  were  full 
of  wraps,  and  his  pockets  crowded  with  muf 
flers  the  ladies  had  sent  out  to  me.  We  did 
ourselves  up  in  everything  we  had,  while  the 
three  hounds  were  being  placed  in  the  sleigh. 
The  drifts  were  too  deep  to  drive  near  the 
cars,  so  my  husband  carried  me  over  the  snow 
and  deposited  me  in  the  straw  with  the  dogs. 
They  were  such  strangers  they  growled  at  be- 


1 86  The  Boy  General 

ing  crowded.  Then  the  two  brothers  followed, 
and  thus  packed  in  we  began  that  terrible  ride, 
amid  the  cheers  of  those  we  were  leaving.  It 
was  understood  that  we  were  to  send  back 
help  to  those  we  left. 

The  suspense  and  alarm  in  the  car  had  been 
great,  but  that  journey  through  the  drifts  was 
simply  terrible.  I  tried  to  be  courageous,  but 
every  time  we  plunged  into  what  appeared  to 
be  a  bottomless  white  abyss,  I  believed  that 
we  were  to  be  buried  there.  And  so  we  should 
have  been,  I  firmly  believe,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  tenacity  shown  by  the  old  driver.  He  had  a 
peculiar  yell  that  he  reserved  for  supreme  mo 
ments  and  that  always  incited  the  floundering 
mules  to  new  efforts.  The  sleigh  was  cov 
ered,  but  I  could  look  out  in  front  and  see  the 
plucky  creatures  scrambling  up  a  bank  after 
they  had  extricated  us  from  the  great  drift  at 
the  bottom  of  the  gully.  If  there  had  been  a 
tree  to  guide  us,  or  had  there  been  daylight,  the 
journey  would  not  have  seemed  so  hopeless. 
The  moon  was  waning,  and  the  clouds  ob 
scured  it  entirely  from  time  to  time.  There 
was  nothing  to  serve  as  guide-posts  except  the 
telegraph-poles.  Sometimes  we  had  to  leave 
them  to  find  a  road  where  the  sleigh  could 
be  pulled  through,  and  I  believed  we  never 


Leave  of  Absence  187 

should  reach  them  again.  Divide  after  divide 
stretched  before  us,  like  the  illimitable  waves 
of  a  great  white  sea.  The  snow  never  ceased 
falling,  and  I  knew  too  much  of  the  Dakota 
blizzard  not  to  fear  hourly  that  it  would  settle 
into  that  driving,  blinding,  whirling  atmos 
phere  through  which  no  eyes  can  penetrate 
and  no  foot  make  progress.  It  is  fortunate  that 
such  hours  of  suspense  come  to  an  end  before 
one  is  driven  distracted. 

When  at  last  I  saw  the  light  shining  out  of 
our  door  at  Fort  Lincoln,  I  could  not  speak  for 
joy  and  gratitude.  Our  friends  gathered  about 
us  around  the  great  log-fire  in  the  General's 
room.  No  light  ever  seemed  so  bright,  no 
haven  so  blessed,  as  our  own  fireside.  The 
train  remained  in  the  spot  where  we  had  left 
it  until  the  sun  of  the  next  spring  melted  down 
the  great  ice-banks  and  set  free  the  buried  en 
gines.  All  the  help  that  Bismarck  could  give 
was  sent  out  at  once,  and  even  the  few  cattle 
that  survived  were  at  last  driven  over  that 
long  distance,  and  shelter  found  for  them  in 
the  town. 

Hardly  had  we  arrived  before  a  despatch 
came  recalling  the  General  to  Washington.  I 
had  no  thought  but  that  I  should  be  allowed 
to  accompany  him,  and  went  at  once  to  repack 


1 88  The  Boy  General 

my  things.  My  husband  found  me  thus  em 
ployed,  and  took  my  breath  away  by  telling 
me  he  could  not  endure  the  anxiety  of  having 
me  go  through  such  peril  again. 

Not  the  shadow  of  an  anxiety,  nor  the  faint 
est  sign  of  dread  of  the  coming  journey  over 
the  snow  again,  came  into  his  face.  He  left 
me  with  the  same  words  with  which  he  always 
comforted  me  :  "  Be  sure,  Libbie,  it's  all  for 
the  best ;  you  know  we  always  find  it  so  in  the 
end."  With  these  farewell  words  he  stepped 
into  the  sleigh — which  he  knew  well  might  be 
his  tomb. 

It  is  not  possible  for  me  to  speak  in  detail  of 
the  days  that  followed.  Life  seemed  insup 
portable  until  I  received  a  despatch  saying 
that  my  husband  had  again  passed  safely 
over  that  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  coun 
try  where  every  hour  life  is  in  jeopardy. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

OUR   LIFE'S   LAST   CHAPTER 

OUR  women's  hearts  fell  when  the  fiat  went 
forth  that  there  was  to  be  a  summer  campaign, 
and,  probably,  actual  fighting  with  Indians. 


Our  Lifes  Last  Chapter  189 

Sitting  Bull  refused  to  make  a  treaty  with 
the  Government,  and  would  not  come  in  to  live 
on  a  reservation.  Besides  his  constant  attacks 
on  the  white  settlers,  driving  back  even  the 
most  adventurous,  he  was  incessantly  invading 
and  stealing  from  the  land  assigned  to  the 
peaceable  Crows.  They  appealed  for  help  to 
the  government  that  had  promised  to  shield 
them. 

The  preparations  for  the  expedition  were 
completed  before  my  husband  returned  from 
the  East.  The  troops  had  been  sent  out  of  bar 
racks  into  a  camp  that  was  established  a  short 
distance  down  the  valley.  As  soon  as  the  Gen 
eral  returned  we  left  Fort  Lincoln  and  went 
into  camp. 

The  morning  for  the  start  came  only  too 
soon.  My  husband  was  to  take  Sister  Mar 
garet  and  me  out  for  the  first  day's  march,  so  I 
rode  beside  him  out  of  camp.  The  column 
that  followed  seemed  unending.  The  grass 
was  not  then  suitable  for  grazing,  and  as  the 
route  of  travel  was  through  a  barren  country, 
immense  quantities  of  forage  had  to  be  trans 
ported.  The  line  of  wagons  seemed  to  stretch 
out  interminably.  There  were  pack-mules,  the 
ponies  already  laden,  and  cavalry,  artillery,  and 
infantry  followed,  the  cavalry  being  in  advance 


190  The  Boy  General 

of  all.  The  number  of  men,  citizens,  employees, 
Indian  scouts,  and  soldiers  was  about  twelve 
hundred.  There  were  nearly  seventeen  hun 
dred  animals  in  all. 

As  we  rode  at  the  head  of  the  column,  we 
were  the  first  to  enter  the  confines  of  the  gar 
rison.  About  the  Indian  quarters,  which  we 
were  obliged  to  pass,  stood  the  squaws,  the  old 
men,  and  the  children  singing,  or  rather  moan 
ing,  a  minor  tune  that  has  been  uttered  on  the 
going  out  of  Indian  warriors  since  time  im 
memorial.  Some  of  the  squaws  crouched  on 
the  ground,  too  burdened  with  their  trouble  to 
hold  up  their  heads ;  others  restrained  che  rest 
less  children  who  sought  to  follow  their  fathers. 

The  Indian  scouts  themselves  beat  their 
drums  and  kept  up  their  peculiar  monotonous 
tune,  which  is  weird  and  melancholy  beyond 
description.  Their  war-song  is  misnamed  when 
called  music.  It  is  more  of  a  dirge  than  an  in 
spiration.  This  intoning  they  kept  up  for  miles 
along  the  road.  After  we  had  passed  the  Ind 
ian  quarters  we  came  near  Laundress  Row. 
The  wives  and  children  of  the  soldiers  lined 
the  road.  Mothers,  with  streaming  eyes,  held 
their  little  ones  out  at  arm's-length  for  one  last 
look  at  the  departing  father.  The  toddlers 
among  the  children  had  made  a  mimic  column 


Our  Lifes  Last  Chapter  191 

of  their  own.  With  their  handkerchiefs  tied  to 
sticks  in  lieu  of  flags,  and  beating  old  tin  pans 
for  drums,  they  strode  lustily  back  and  forth 
in  imitation  of  the  advancing  soldiers.  They 
were  too  young  to  realize  why  the  mothers 
wailed  out  their  farewells. 

It  was  a  relief  to  escape  from  them  and  en 
ter  the  garrison,  and  yet,  when  our  band  struck 
up  "  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me,"  the  most  de 
spairing  hour  seemed  to  have  come.  All  the 
sad-faced  wives  of  the  officers  who  had  forced 
themselves  to  their  doors  to  try  and  wave  a 
courageous  farewell,  and  smile  bravely  to  keep 
the  ones  they  loved  from  knowing  the  anguish 
of  their  breaking  hearts,  gave  up  the  struggle 
at  the  sound  of  the  music. 

From  the  hour  of  breaking  camp,  before  the 
sun  was  up,  a  mist  had  enveloped  everything. 
Soon  the  bright  sun  began  to  penetrate  this 
veil  and  dispel  the  haze,  and  a  scene  of  wonder 
and  beauty  appeared.  The  cavalry  and  in 
fantry  in  the  order  named,  the  scouts,  pack- 
mules,  and  artillery,  and  behind  all  the  long 
line  of  white-covered  wagons,  made  a  column 
altogether  some  two  miles  in  length.  As  the 
sun  broke  through  the  mist,  a  mirage  appeared, 
which  took  up  about  half  of  the  line  of  cavalry, 
and  thenceforth  for  a  little  distance  it  marched. 


192  The  Boy  General 

equally  plain  to  the  sight,  on  the  earth  and  in 
the  sky.  The  future  of  the  heroic  band,  whose 
days  were  even  then  numbered,  seemed  to  be  re 
vealed,  and  already  there  seemed  a  premonition 
in  the  supernatural  translation  as  their  forms 
were  reflected  from  the  opaque  mist  of  the 
early  dawn. 

At  every  bend  of  the  road,  as  the  column 
wound  its  way  round  and  round  the  low  hills, 
my  husband  glanced  back  to  admire  his  men, 
and  could  not  refrain  from  constantly  calling 
my  attention  to  their  grand  appearance.  The 
soldiers,  inured  to  many  years  of  hardship, 
were  the  perfection  of  physical  manhood. 
Their  brawny  limbs  and  lithe,  well-poised  bodies 
gave  proof  of  the  training  their  out-door  life 
had  given.  Their  resolute  faces,  brave  and  con 
fident,  inspired  one  with  a  feeling  that  they 
were  going  out  aware  of  the  momentous  hours 
awaiting  them,  but  inwardly  assured  of  their 
capability  to  meet  them. 

The  General  could  scarcely  restrain  his  re 
curring  joy  at  being  again  with  his  regiment, 
from  which  he  had  feared  he  might  be  sepa 
rated  by  being  detained  on  other  duty.  His 
buoyant  spirits  at  the  prospect  of  the  activity 
and  field-life  that  he  so  loved  made  him  like  a 
boy.  He  had  made  every  plan  to  have  me  join 


o:     ~ 

O     13 

-° 


Our  Lifes  Last  Chapter  193 

him  later  when  they  should  have  reached  the 
Yellowstone.  The  steamers  with  supplies 
would  be  obliged  to  leave  our  post  and  follow 
the  Missouri  and  Yellowstone  to  the  point 
where  the  regiment  was  to  make  its  first  halt 
to  renew  the  rations  and  forage  ;  and  so  he  was 
sanguine  that  but  a  few  weeks  would  elapse  be 
fore  we  should  be  reunited. 

As  usual  we  rode  a  little  in  advance  and  se 
lected  camp,  and  watched  the  approach  of  the 
regiment  with  real  pride.  There  was  a  unity 
of  movement  about  it  that  made  the  column 
at  a  distance  seem  like  a  broad  dark  ribbon 
stretched  smoothly  over  the  plains. 

We  made  our  camp  the  first  night  on  a  small 
river  a  few  miles  beyond  the  post.  There  the 
paymaster  made  his  disbursements,  in  order 
that  the  debts  of  the  soldiers  might  be  liquidat 
ed  with  the  sutler.  In  the  morning  the  fare 
well  was  said,  and  the  paymaster  took  sister  and 
me  back  to  the  post.  With  my  husband's  de 
parture  my  last  happy  days  in  garrison  were 
ended.  A  premonition  of  disaster  that  I  had 
never  known  before  weighed  me  down.  I  could 
not  shake  off  the  baleful  influence  of  depress 
ing  thoughts. 

We  heard  constantly  at  the  fort  of  the  disaf 
fection  of  the  young  Indians  of  the  Reservation, 


194  The  Boy   General 

and  of  their  joining  the  hostiles.  We  knew,  for 
we  had  seen  for  ourselves,  how  admirably  they 
were  equipped.  We  even  saw  on  a  steamer 
touching  at  our  landing  its  freight  of  Spring 
field  rifles  piled  up  on  the  decks  on  their  way  to 
the  Indians  up  the  river.  There  was  unquestion 
able  proof  that  they  came  into  the  trading-posts 
far  above  us  and  bought  them,  while  our  own 
brave  Seventh  Cavalry  troopers  were  sent  out 
with  only  the  short-range  carbines  that  grew 
foul  after  the  second  firing. 

While  we  waited  in  untold  suspense  for  some 
hopeful  news,  the  garrison  was  suddenly  thrown 
into  a  state  of  excitement  by  important  de 
spatches  that  were  sent  from  Division  Head 
quarters  in  the  East.  We  women  knew  that 
eventful  news  had  come,  and  could  hardly  re 
strain  our  curiosity,  for  it  was  of  vital  import 
to  us.  Indian  scouts  were  fitted  out  at  the  fort 
with  the  greatest  despatch,  and  had  instruc 
tions  to  make  the  utmost  speed  they  could  in 
reaching  the  expedition  on  the  Yellowstone. 
After  their  departure,  when  there  was  no  longer 
any  need  for  secrecy,  we  were  told  that  the  ex 
pedition  which  had  started  from  the  Depart 
ment  of  the  Platte,  and  encountered  the  hostile 
Indians  on  the  head-waters  of  the  Rosebud,  had 
been  compelled  to  retreat. 


Our  Lifes  Last  Chapter  195 

All  those  victorious  Indians  had  gone  to  join 
Sitting  Bull,  and  it  was  to  warn  our  regiment 
that  this  news  was  sent  to  our  post,  which  was  at 
the  extreme  of  telegraphic  communication  in 
the  Northwest,  and  the  orders  given  to  transmit 
the  information,  that  precautions  might  be  taken 
against  encountering  so  large  a  number  of  the 
enemy.  The  news  of  the  failure  of  the  cam 
paign  in  the  other  department  was  a  death-knell 
to  our  hopes.  We  felt  that  we  had  nothing  to 
expect  but  that  our  troops  would  be  over 
whelmed  with  numbers,  for  it  seemed  to  us  an 
impossibility,  as  it  really  proved  to  be,  that  our 
Indian  scouts  should  cross  that  vast  extent  of 
country  in  time  to  make  the  warning  of  use. 

The  first  steamer  that  returned  from  the 
Yellowstone  brought  letters  from  my  husband, 
with  the  permission,  for  which  I  had  longed 
unutterably,  to  join  him  by  the  next  boat.  The 
Indians  had  fired  into  the  steamer  when  it  had 
passed  under  the  high  bluffs  in  the  gorges  of 
the  river.  I  counted  the  hours  until  the  sec 
ond  steamer  was  ready.  They  were  obliged, 
after  loading,  to  cover  the  pilot-house  and 
other  vulnerable  portions  of  the  upper  deck 
with  sheet-iron  to  repel  attacks.  Then  sand 
bags  were  placed  around  the  guards  as  pro 
tection,  and  other  precautions  taken  for  the 


196  The  Boy   General 

safety  of  those  on  board.  All  these  delays  and 
preparations  made  me  inexpressibly  impatient, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  the  time  would  never  come 
for  the  steamer  to  depart. 

Meanwhile  our  own  post  was  constantly  sur 
rounded  by  hostiles,  and  the  outer  pickets 
were  continually  subjected  to  attacks.  It  was 
no  unusual  sound  to  hear  the  long-roll  calling 
out  the  infantry  before  dawn  to  defend  the 
garrison.  We  saw  the  faces  of  the  officers 
blanch,  brave  as  they  were,  when  the  savages 
grew  so  bold  as  to  make  a  day-time  sortie  upon 
our  outer  guards. 

A  picture  of  one  day  of  our  life  in  those 
disconsolate  times  is  fixed  indelibly  in  my 
memory. 

On  Sunday  afternoon,  the  25th  of  June,  1876, 
our  little  group  of  saddened  women,  borne 
down  with  one  common  weight  of  anxiety, 
sought  solace  in  gathering  together  in  our 
house.  We  tried  to  find  some  slight  surcease 
from  trouble  in  the  old  hymns  ;  some  of  them 
dated  back  to  our  childhood's  days,  when 
our  mothers  rocked  us  to  sleep  to  their  sooth 
ing  strains.  All  were  absorbed  in  the  same 
thoughts,  and  their  eyes  were  filled  with  far 
away  visions  and  longings.  Indescribable 
yearning  for  the  absent,  and  untold  terror  for 


Our  Lifes  Last  Chapter  197 

their  safety,  engrossed  each  heart.  The  words 
of  the  hymn, 

"  Still  all  my  song  shall  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee," 

came  forth  with  almost  a  sob  from  every  throat. 
At  that  very  hour  the  fears  that  our  tortured 
minds  had  portrayed  in  imagination,  were  real 
ities,  and  the  souls  of  those  we  thought  upon 
were  ascending  to  meet  their  Maker. 


INDIAN    IN    WAR-BONNET. 


198  The  Boy   General 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  BATTLE   OF   THE   LITTLE   BIG   HORN  * 

Two  days  after  the  Battle  of  the  Little  Big 
Horn  the  sun  rose  bright  and  glorious  over 
The  Boy  General  as  he  lay  in  that  long  sleep 
from  which  no  mortal  wakes.  A  true  leader 
to  the  last,  he  lay  at  the  head  of  his  army  on 
the  summit  of  a  ridge  overlooking  the  battle 
field,  surrounded  by  his  heroic  followers. 
Here,  with  him,  were  his  two  brothers,  Tom 
Custer  and  Boston,  and  his  nephew  Armstrong 
Reed,  Captain  Yates,  Lieutenants  Cooke,  Smith, 
and  Reilly,  all  lying  in  a  circle  of  a  few  yards, 
their  horses  beside  them.  The  companies  had 
successively  thrown  themselves  across  the  path 
of  the  advancing  enemy.  The  last  stand  had 
been  made  with  Yates's  company.  Not  a  man 
escaped  to  tell  the  tale,  but  it  was  inscribed 
upon  the  surface  of  the  barren  hills  in  a  lan 
guage  more  eloquent  than  words. 

In  the  ravine  below  lay  the  troops  arranged 
in  order  of  battle,  as  they  had  fought,  line  be- 

*  Edited  from  a  paper  prepared  by  Annie  Gibson  Yates  and 
end  revised  by  Lieutenant- General  Nelson  A.  Miles. 


The  Battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn   199 

hind  line,  showing  where  defensive  positions 
had  been  successively  taken  up  and  held  till  not 
a  man  was  left  to  continue  the  fight.  In  a  nar 
row  compass  horses  and  men  were  piled  pro 
miscuously.  Lieutenant  Smith's  skirmishers, 
still  holding  their  gray  horses,  were  lying  in 
groups  of  fours.  Lieutenant  Calhoun  was  on 
the  skirmish-line,  and  Lieutenant  Crittendon 
and  each  of  the  company  had  fallen  in  the 
place  to  which  the  tactics  would  have  assigned 
them. 

The  true  soldier  asks  no  questions ;  he 
obeys,  and  Custer  was  a  true  soldier.  He  gave 
his  life  in  carrying  out  the  orders  of  his  com 
manding  general.  He  was  sent  out  to  fight 
and  was  expected  to  accomplish  results.  He 
had  advanced  carefully  and  cautiously  upon 
the  enemy,  taking  three  times  as  much  time  for 
the  approach  as  is  regarded  necessary  in  the 
marches  of  cavalry  troops  to-day.  He  often 
took  counsel  with  his  officers  and  halted  to  ex 
amine  all  abandoned  camps  and  trails.  He  was 
instructed  not  to  let  any  Indians  escape,  and  was 
expected  to  compel  them  to  settle  down  on  their 
reservations.  He  had  trained  and  exhorted  his 
men  and  officers  to  loyalty,  and  with  one  excep 
tion  they  stood  true  to  their  trust,  as  was  shown 
by  the  order  in  which  they  fell.  A  lieutenant 


2OO  The  Boy  General 

holding  an  important  sheltered  position,  who 
should  have  kept  the  enemy  at  bay  and  could 
easily  have  done  so,  became  excited  and  panic- 
stricken,  gave  confused  orders  and  counter 
manded  them,  and  finally  led  a  stampede  which 
allowed  the  Indians  to  concentrate  on  one  point 
and  advance  on  Custer's  band  with  overwhelm 
ing  numbers. 

The  Government,  through  its  Indian  agents, 
had  unwittingly  provided  the  savages  with  bet 
ter  rifles  than  it  had  given  to  its  own  soldiers. 
These  reservation  Indians  had  from  time  to 
time  slipped  away  from  their  rightful  grounds 
and  joined  the  hostile  red  men.  They  should 
have  been  reported  to  the  War  Department  by 
the  agents  employed  to  look  after  them.  But 
these  public  servants  were  only  too  glad  to  have 
them  gone  that  they  might  sell  their  supplies 
furnished  by  the  Government  and  keep  the 
profits,  which  amounted  to  thousands  of  dollars. 
They  even  invented  fictitious  names  of  Indians 
and  kept  them  on  their  records  to  further  in 
crease  their  gains.  Thus  were  the  enemy's 
ranks  swollen  and  no  account  made  of  it  to  the 
War  Department.  And  so  it  happened  that 
Custer  went  out  to  meet  less  than  a  thousand 
Indians  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
three  thousand,  supplied  with  long-range  rifles 


The  Battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn    201 

with  which  they  could  stand  at  a  safe  distance 
and  take  effective  aim,  while  his  own  men  had 
to  extract  empty  and  corroded  cartridge-shells, 
often  with  their  knives,  from  their  inferior 
short-range  rifles.  A  few  days  previous  to  this 
General  Crooke  had  been  sent  by  the  command 
ing  general,  Terry,  to  do  battle  with  the  Indians 
in  another  place.  He  was  defeated,  and  the 
Indians,  intoxicated  with  the  victory,  had  come 
with  greater  courage  against  Custer,  and  this, 
with  many  other  unavoidable  circumstances, 
forced  the  battle  before  Terry  and  his  men 
could  come  up  and  unite  with  Ouster's  forced. 
General  Terry  was  new  to  Indian  warfare  and 
had  to  plan  the  battle  as  he  put  it,  from  "  a  con 
jectural  map  of  an  unexplored  country,"  and 
without  knowing  positively  the  situation  ot 
the  enemy.  So  was  the  brave  Seventh  Cav 
alry  sent  down  to  the  Valley  of  Death,  and  the 
Thermopylae  of  the  western  plains  is  on  our 
national  records. 

When  a  relief  corps  was  sent  to  look  up  Cus- 
ter's  trail,  the  column  came  to  a  part  of  the 
division  that  had  been  led  by  the  runaway 
lieutenant.  The  men  were  still  fighting  in  the 
timber.  They  gave  cheer  upon  cheer  to  the 
soldiers  who  had  come  to  their  relief,  and 
the  Indians  fell  back.  The  relief  pushed  on  to 


2O2  The  Boy   General 

find  Custer  and  his  men.  They  passed  an 
Indian  village  which  extended  three  miles 
along  the  stream.  They  saw  funeral  lodges 
containing  the  bodies  of  nine  chiefs.  When 
they  came  to  the  Custer  field  they  were  ap 
palled.  They  set  to  work  to  bury  the  dead. 
There  were  only  two  spades,  but  the  soldiers 
used  tin  plates,  cups,  and  even  their  hands  in 
digging  the  graves.  They  were  buried  exact 
ly  where  they  had  fallen,  each  grave  being 
carefully  marked  with  a  stake  cut  in  two,  the 
name  burned  inside,  the  two  pieces  wrapped 
with  wire  and  driven  out  of  sight  at  the  head 
of  each  grave. 

A  year  later  General  Sheridan  sent  his  broth 
er,  Colonel  Michael  Sheridan,  from  Chicago  to 
the  Little  Big  Horn  to  go  with  an  escort  to 
the  battle-field  and  bring  the  bodies  back.  He 
took  a  steamer  on  the  Yellowstone  and  re 
turned  to  Fort  Lincoln  with  the  coffins,  which 
were  placed  in  a  storehouse.  Colonel  Joseph 
Tilford,  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  locked  himself 
in  the  room  and  opened  Custer's  casket  and 
cut  a  lock  of  hair  from  his  head,  in  order  that 
his  wife  might  have  sure  proof  of  his  identity. 
No  queen  ever  valued  her  crown  jewels  more 
highly.  Thus  was  one  ray  of  sunshine  brought 
from  the  battle-field  in  the  gleam  of  a  golden  curl. 


The  Battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn    203 

Some  of  these  heroes  of  the  Little  Big  Horn 
were  taken  to  their  homes,  others  to  the  mil 
itary  cemetery  at  Fort  Leavenworth ;  but  Gen 
eral  Custer,  who  had  once  asked  his  wife  to 
lay  him  in  the  spot  he  loved  the  best,  was  bur 
ied  at  West  Point.  A  bronze  relief  of  The 
Boy  General  in  battle,  forever  looks  down 
across  the  hills  and  river  over  the  most  beau 
tiful  scene  on  all  the  Hudson. 

Captain  Keough's  thoroughbred  horse,  Co- 
manche,  was  the  only  living  thing  found  on 
the  Custer  battle-field.  When  General  Terry's 
relief  column  arrived,  Comanche  staggered  to 
his  feet,  having  survived  twenty-eight  wounds. 
He  was  tenderly  cared  for,  taken  to  Fort  Lin 
coln,  and  orders  were  issued  that  no  one  should 
ever  ride  him  again.  Comanche  always 
marched  in  the  parades  of  the  Seventh  Cav 
alry,  caparisoned  with  the  military  equipments 
of  a  cavalry  officer,  and  led  by  the  devoted  sol 
diers  who  had  him  in  charge.  He  died  in  1893, 
and  his  funeral  was  attended  with  the  honors 
of  war.  He  was  mounted  by  a  taxidermist  and 
is  now  in  the  Military  Museum  at  Governor's 
Island. 

A  monument  of  granite  in  the  form  of  an 
obelisk  marks  the  field  where  General  Custer 
fell.  It  overlooks  the  entire  country  occupied 


204  The  Boy  General 

by  both  forces  during  the  action.  On  the 
west  front  is  the  inscription  to  the  officers  ;  on 
the  three  other  sides  is  a  list  of  the  men  who 
fell  on  that  spot  as  well  as  those  who  were 
killed  in  the  fight  on  the  26th. 

A  quarter  of  a  century  has  elapsed  since  the 
Battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn.  At  that  time 
Sitting  Bull,  in  Dakota,  and  Crazy  Horse,  in 
Wyoming,  with  their  allies,  Crow  King,  Gall, 
Low  Dog,  Humph  and  Two  Moons,  kept  a 
territory  of  90,000  square  miles  in  terror,  slay 
ing  without  mercy  travellers,  settlers,  wood- 
choppers,  and  hunters.  To-day  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  happy  people  in  snug  homes  on 
well-tilled  farms,  or  in  pretty  villages,  rejoice 
in  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  the  same  coun 
try  which  still  has  room  enough  for  as  many 
Indians  as  ever  lived  there. 

As  a  pioneer  the  name  of  George  Armstrong 
Custer  will  live  side  by  side  with  that  of  La 
Salle,  Captain  John  Smith,  Boone,  and  Miles 
Standish.  And  he  has  won  unfading  glory  as 
a  soldier,  through  his  efficient  zeal,  devoted 
patriotism,  and  the  high  courage  that  counted 
death  in  loyal  service,  a  victory. 


General  Ouster's  Grave  at  West  Point. 


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